CIRCLES
by jelliemushroomz
Summary: You think I would give you a vision and a mission to save the world if you were just going to end up a big pile of dust having not made any difference? Hell no! Who do you think I am? Frodo? ..Cordy, post NFA. Not AU. YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT. Click!
1. LOST and FOUND

**CIRCLES **

CHAPTER ONE: LOST AND FOUND

**

* * *

**

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTES:** The first two chapters of this fic are about ressurected!Cordelia, and are a prolouge to the later chapters. They tie up lose ends from Angel season 5, and are set running parrallel between "You're Welcome" and "Not Fade Away". If you'd prefer to skip the prologue and get straight into post-NFA action (although I'm quite fond of the prolouge and I think it's necessary) with the fang-gang and stuff, then skip to chapter 3, where there is a short summary of the first two chapters, so everything'll make sense. This fic is not an Alternate Universe fic, despite the ressurection of Cordelia, as I went along with what happened in You're Welcome and just interpreted it in a way I thought would make a cool story, and I haven't actually _changed_ (at least to my knowledge) any canon information. It's also a very long fic. You've been warned :)

_

* * *

_

_Innocent sunshine turns cold and blue_

_A window shatters_

_A beautiful song note quivers and dies_

_The pages of a book tear_

_A warrior bleeds_

_A panther roars in fury_

_Then all is silent_

* * *

The sun rose but a little higher in its morning journey and suddenly everything changed. A building's shadow had kept it away before but now the sun was tall enough to reach through a dusty window and illuminate a room. What was cold and dark was now blessed with light, and everything looked different. 

The taps on the sink were no longer rusty and leaking, now they glistened as light sparkled off their wet surfaces and hid the rotting chrome. A clock on the wall was now visible, and the hands that were unseen in the darkness now clearly spelled out the time. Pots and pans on the bench were flooded with brightness, food and grime from a night before now shown.

The room filled with light in an instant, all that was black before was now tainted with colour and all purity was snatched away.

The sunlight streaming in the window hit a place where it could not go. The light was there to conquer the darkness, as it had done for countless mornings before, but now something blocked its path.

There was something in its way, something that for an instant the morning light struggled with, and then was swallowed by.

More light. Pure light.

And then it was gone, and the light broke away.. and continued on its journey as the earth circled around the sun as though nothing had happened, and all had remained the same.

* * *

Cordelia opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and colours mixed into one another like a bad painting. She blinked, trying to focus, and objects in front of her began to clear. There was a bench beside her, and she seemed to be lying on a floor. A tiled floor. 

How strange.

The ceiling was grey and cold, and a dirty window was on the wall above the counter where dishes were piled untidily next to a sink.

A face came into view; a girl's face. She had messy black hair and hazel eyes and wore an expression of fright and confusion. She was holding a strange looking bat in a threatening position, as if it were a weapon. Cordelia looked at the bat – she'd seen ones like that before, but for the moment she couldn't remember where. She felt a little dizzy.

Cordelia looked up at the girl again. "Um.. hello?" She said uncertainly, discovering her voice was scratchy and dry and that speaking caused her pain. She put her hand up to her neck and suddenly realised she was naked. Stunned, she looked down at herself.

The girl had obviously noticed Cordelia's lack of clothing, and pushed a pile of unfolded clothes toward her with her foot. Cordelia reached forward and grabbed them. It suddenly occurred to her she might have been kidnapped, or worse, and edged away from the girl. She pulled on the garments, a pair of baggy sport pants and a white t-shirt. After she found out what was going on she most definatley needed to get some better clothes.

She tried speaking again. "Who are you?" She said slowly, talking still hurting her throat. Her legs felt weak and painful, and as she tried to stand they gave way and she fell down hard. The girl dropped her bat and came over to her, taking one of her arms and helping her up. Cordelia grabbed hold of the bench with her other arm and finally came to her feet.

The girl looked sad now, and as Cordelia steadied herself against the counter she walked towards another cupboard and took out a glass, which she filled with water from the sink. She handed it to Cordelia, who took small sips.

"Thanks.." She said after she'd drunk half the water, "but you didn't answer my question. Who are you? And where am I? What did you do to me?"

The girl looked uncertainly at Cordelia. She then sighed and put her hand to her mouth. She then made talking actions with her other hand and then shook it. Cordelia looked at her, confused. "You can't speak?" She asked. The girl nodded.

"Oh.. well.. we're going to have a problem then aren't we?" She said, almost to herself, but the girl was reaching into her shirt and pulling out a chain from around her neck. She showed it to Cordelia. It was a thin sheet of silver, engraved with symbols and designs, and there was a word carved in cursive letters in the middle.

_Eleanor_

Cordelia looked at her. "That's a pretty name." She said softly, suddenly feeling a surge of pity for her, despite the strange situation.

Eleanor's mouth twitched, as though she wanted to smile but didn't have the energy, then she took Cordelia's arm and lead her slowly through a door into another room. This room was even smaller than the kitchen, and Cordelia guessed that they weren't in a very big house. There was a small table and one chair, and Eleanor guided Cordelia into it, then left the room. The décor was very different from what she was used to, so Cordelia peered around trying to understand what was so alien about it, and get a bearing on where she might be. She looked back though the door into the kitchen and saw the strange bat Eleanor had been holding when she had woken up. She turned her head to the side, trying to remember...

A.. cricket bat! That's what it was. She'd seen one before back in the gym in Sunnydale, not that she'd ever played cricket, or even really knew what it was. She looked around again; there was a fireplace on one wall, and a cabinet in the corner of the room nearest the window. She looked through the window. The glass was very dirty and Cordelia could only see a little bit of a plant of some sort outside. On the cabinet in the corner were piles of large thin black books. Cordelia reached over from her seat and picked one up. She opened it to the first page and gasped. A beautiful woman's face was drawn there, surrounded by more of the symbols and patterns that were on Eleanor's necklace. The woman in the drawing looked similar to Eleanor, but her features were slightly different. It was her smile, however, that had taken Cordy's breath away. She'd never seen anything like it – it was so pure and genuine. So wonderful, and so beautiful. She stared in awe at the picture for a few moments before finally turning to the next page.

Eleanor came back in, holding a chair and another sketch book and some pencils. She stopped when she saw Cordelia holding her book, but did not get upset. She simply looked sad again and put her chair down next to Cordelia's.

Cordelia put the book on the table. "I'm sorry." She said, but Eleanor shook her head, as if to say that it didn't matter. She opened the book she had carried in with her, and flicked through pages that were already filled until she came to a blank page. She pulled out her pencil and began to draw.

She was an exceptional artist, Cordelia saw at once, as she quickly sketched out a drawing of her kitchen, and a glow of light eminating on the floor. She pointed at the light, and then at Cordelia.

"This is how I got here?" Cordelia asked.

Eleanor gave a sort of half shrug, as though she wasn't sure. Cordelia leaned forward, and touched Eleanor's hand. "Why don't you just write it down?" She asked.

Eleanor smiled a sad ironic smile and shook her head again.

"You can't write anything down and you can't speak?" Cordelia asked her incredulously. "How.." she paused, looking into her eyes, and then looking away apologetically, "how sad."

Eleanor put her hand on Cordelia's cheek and looked into her eyes again. She held Cordy in this gaze for a few moments, before sighing and pulling away, reaching for the book on the table. She opened it to a few pages in.

Pictured was a girl in a white dress standing in a brightly coloured garden, singing. Her black hair came down to her shoulders and her face was alight with emotion. Musical notes surrounded her and a stream of light came down on her from the sun in the sky. She looked so happy, and so beautiful.

Cordelia looked up at Eleanor. "This is you?" She asked, and Eleanor nodded. She turned the page, revealing another image. There was no colour in this picture, but the same girl was still featured. She lay curled up on a dark grey floor, her dress torn and ripped, her hair matted and messy. Darkness surrounded her. Her face was just visible, her eyes wide and hopeless, tears running down her cheeks. She did no longer look beautiful – she looked gaunt, empty and robbed. The musical notes from the page before were now scattered on the floor, shattered and broken.

"You lost your voice?" Cordelia asked softly. Eleanor frowned slightly. She wiggled her right hand, as though to say _sort of_.

Eleanor shook her head and sighed again, taking the book away and shaking her hand as though to say it wasn't important. She looked at Cordelia, pointed at her, then at the door that lead into the kitchen, then lifted her hands – asking a question.

"Oh! My story? I mean – why was I lying naked in your kitchen?" Cordelia's expression grew troubled. "I have no idea. All I remember is waking up there."

Eleanor pursed her lips, and squinted at Cordelia, as though trying to decide if she was telling the truth. She shook her head again, as though she was giving up finding out anything rational. She pulled out her necklace again and pointed at her name, then at herself, then at Cordelia.

"What's my name? Oh right! My name's Cordelia Chase and I'm.. I'm from Los Angeles, California."

Eleanor raised her eyebrows, as though this startled her. She gestered for Cordelia to continue.

"Um.. well.. what's the last thing I remember.." Cordelia continued.. skrewing up her eyes and thinking. Then suddenly everything hit her like a bucket of ice cold water.

She stood up. "Oh my god!" She said and then touched her body and patted herself down as though checking everything was still there. She looked down at herself, then up at Eleanor as though seeing her for the first time. "Oh my god!" She said again.

"I'm alive!"

* * *

"I'm alive! I'm alive!" Cordelia shouted, smiling and yelling in joy. Then she stopped and looked puzzled. "I wonder why." 

Eleanor's face was almost expressionless, as though this was no news to her and everything seemed to be a midly amusing television program, but she continued to look at Cordelia, who was now talking to herself.

"I died!" She was saying as she paced back and forth. "I was supposed to.. I came back, I saved Angel, and.. then.." she looked around as though she had lost something. "Why am I back? Am I still dead?" She stopped pacing and looked at Eleanor. "Is this heaven? Or hell? 'Cause I've been to both and this doesn't seem like either. It's much too boring."

Eleanor raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, well no offence, but it's a little bare in here." She looked around again, then back at Eleanor. "Where am I?"

Eleanor looked at her strangely for a moment, her sudden outburst of speech and movement (not to mention to crazy announcements) had left her feeling slightly confused, but she pulled herself together. She reached for her book and pencil again, and drew for a few moments. She showed the image to Cordelia.

Cordelia stared at the picture. "England?" She said after a while. "I'm in England?"

Eleanor nodded. Cordelia looked around and then sat down again. "Oh well that explains a lot."

Eleanor felt slightly offended by this, and took back her book, in which she had drawn a union jack and placed it on the table. "When? What's the date?" Cordelia asked, but Eleanor found this harder to convey. Finally she found a newspaper from a week ago, and counted forwards until they reached the current date.

"Five days." She said softly. "Only for five days. Last week I died in Los Angeles, and today I'm waking up in England. Seems a little sudden." Cordelia put her hands on her face, her brow screwed up in worry. "Think bubblehead, think.

"If I'm back, then I'm supposed to be back." She took a breath and lowered her hands. "The Powers sent me back for a reason, and now I have to find out what it is." She looked at Eleanor. "And what you have to do with it."

Eleanor didn't reply, and simply looked downwards at her hands in her lap. Cordelia squinted at her. "Did you bring me back? How did you.. Who _are_ you?"

Eleanor gave a resigned, guilty kind of sigh and stood up. Something was at work here she didn't understand, that might be her fault, so she might as well not make it any harder for herself. She walked towards the door that lead away from the kitchen and gestured for Cordelia to follow her. Cordy got up out of the chair again and walked slowly over to her. Eleanor opened the door and they went inside.

The room was cluttered.

A huge red pentagram was painted on the floor, and around the circle were bottles, books, pots, dishes, bowls, bags and bits of plants. There were crosses and ornaments in a box in a corner, and knives and spoons lay on the floor in front of them. There was a stool in front of a large cauldron in another corner of the room, and a great long painting was on the far wall. Two women, both with black hair, one curly and neat the other straight and unruly, were depicted at either end of the frame. Their hands were outstretched toward each other and a ball of light was centred in the middle, between their fingers. The woman with curly hair had a bleeding cut on her cheek and the girl with straight hair was crying, but both women's expressions were neutral. A border of red thorns surrounded them.

"You're a witch?" Cordelia said, looking around in surprise. Eleanor's expression was unreadable, but after a moment she gave a small nod. Cordy raised her eyes from the symbol on the floor to the painting on the wall, looking at the girl with straight her. "That's you." She said. It wasn't a question, so Eleanor did not reply.

Cordy pushed her own hair back from her face, "But you didn't bring me here."

Eleanor paused, then shook her head. She gestured at Cordelia and then spread her hands.

"Do you know who the Powers are? The Powers That Be?"

Eleanor made a dubious expression, as though she had heard of them but didn't really believe.

Cordelia said "Hm.."

Eleanor tapped Cordelia on the shoulder and gestured around the room. She raised her eyebrows in question.

"You want to do witchcraft?" Cordelia asked, confused. Eleanor nodded at her. "What would you do?" She asked. Eleanor gestured towards Cordelia.

"You want to use witchcraft on me?" She said in shock. "What do you have to get me to fill out some forms first, is that why you're asking?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes in frustration, then looked back at Cordy and wiggled her hands again. She made more gestures with her hands, but Cordelia was floundering in the dark. "Oh god this is hard." She said, and tried to make sense of what the mute girl was saying.

After a few trial and errors she said, "You.. want to do witchcraft _for _me?" Eleanor nodded, smiling slightly. "To do what?"

After a few more minutes of furious gestures and confusion Cordelia finally said "To help me to figure out .. why I'm here? Why I'm back?"

Eleanor nodded emphatically. Cordelia looked at her with great respect "You can do that? Find out what I'm supposed to do?" she asked. Eleanor shrugged, but looked confident.

Cordelia looked around and pursed her lips. "Well, it's sure been useful for us in the past.. I guess I've never really had anything _against_ witchcraft.. well.. ok that's not true.. there have been loads of things.. especially that time with the legion of crazy females lusting after my ex-boyfriend.." Eleanor raised her eyebrows. "Nevermind..

"Well I suppose so," she said after a moment, "It's not like I've got anything to lose. I've already died, and look where that got me - naked in the kitchen of a mute English witch." She shrugged. "Why not?"

* * *

Eleanor had been grinding herbs, powders and liquids with a mortar and pestle for over an hour, and Cordy was starting to get a little impatient. She was trying not to talk too much, but she felt slightly nervous, sitting in the middle of a large red pentagram while a strange (and not entirely un-creepy) girl she didn't know prepared a spell to use on her. Talking was a way for her to calm down, well – that was the theory anyway.  
"I didn't really go to hell, by the way. Just in case you were wondering. It was a hell dimension, which is kind of different I guess. Actually, they made me a princess. Which is.." Eleanor didn't look up, but Cordy could see her eyebrows were raised. ".. um.. doesn't matter." She said after a moment. She kept apologizing when she began to babble, but Eleanor seemed to like the noise. As she tried to keep her eyes off the dead rat Eleanor was currently disembowelling, she couldn't help looking fixedly at the ceiling and speaking her mind. 

"You know, the funny thing about being dead is.. well – I wouldn't know because I don't remember any of it! I mean, you die you should get some sort of out-worldly experience right? Don't they owe you that much? Big bright light, candles – that sort of thing? What do I get? Nothing. Big old headache and a taste of kitchen floor." She looked over at Eleanor, who was now stirring her cauldron with what looked horribly like a human bone. Cordelia really didn't mind the magic part of this, she was more nervous about finding out the reason for her return to earth.

She was worried something had gone horribly wrong and that her (and the Powers) plans to help Angel had been fruitless, not that she'd been gone very long. She just had a gut wrenching feeling that something terrible had happened, or was going to happen, and she'd be powerless to stop it. She took a big breath and tried to remind herself that her questions would be answered soon. Hopefully. Aside from her nerves she also felt irritated, so she continued her diatribe.

"It's like - the last thing I remember is saying goodbye to Angel in my big moment of emotion, drama and death; my final goodbye! What's the point of a final goodbye if there's going to be another "hello"!" She paused, trying not to think that maybe there wouldn't be one. "I mean, not that I wanted to die and stay dead.. and well – being alive is great and all but.." and she raised her hands up in the air in frustration. "I'm telling him all about my path and my destiny and the greater good then it's all for nothing because I don't die properly! I mean what about my _off ramp_! There was an off-ramp and I was on it! I was getting off and now I'm back on again and I just don't understand!" She put her face in her hands.

"Death is just so unfair."

Eleanor coughed. Cordy looked up at her. "You can cough?" Eleanor gave her a withering look, and gestured for her to hold out her hands.

"We're ready?" Eleanor nodded. "Finally!"

Eleanor dipped her fingers into the ceramic mixing bowl and scooped out a large gob of yellow paste. She put a dab of the goo into the each of Cordelia's palms, and then took out a stone from her pocket. The stone was round and clear and looked vaguely familiar. Cordelia looked at it. "Hey – is that – is that an Orb of Thesulah? Because I've already got my soul, see – no lack of soulage! I'm soulgirl – just look at me. Soul, soul, soul. Hell I could even start singing I'm so soulfull! Um.. I'm starting to get nervous now, can you tell?"

Eleanor ignored her comments and mimed talking the orb into her hands and then bringing it to her forehead. "Ok.." Cordy said, reaching out for the stone. Eleanor held up a finger. _Not yet_.

"Right." Said Cordy, pulling her hands back. "I'm good. Good is me." She looked up at Eleanor. "Hey, doesn't most witchcraft involve saying incantations? I mean, doesn't _all_ witchcraft involve speaking? Won't that be a little hard for you, what with the whole not being able to talk?"

Eleanor shook her head, and took out a knife from her pocket. Cordelia's eyes widened to the point of no return, but before she could panic Eleanor was sliding the knife across her own hand, making a deep gash. Blood pouring from her wound she moved closer to Cordelia.

"Uh.." Cordy said, suddenly feeling trapped and helpless, two feelings she did not like. Eleanor looked into her eyes. _Trust me_.

Eleanor squeezed her hand and blood rushed down her wrist. She opened her palm and put her hand on Cordelia's forehead. Cordy suppressed an "eww" as the blood dripped down her face, she had dealt with worse over the years – she could handle this.

Eleanor had got to her feet and was walking over to the cauldron, which was issuing a cloud of red smoke that climbed upwards and hovered around the ceiling. She had picked up a talisman off the floor and now held it over the simmering pot in her blood covered hand. There was a huge booming sound and the smoke in the cauldron suddenly turned a deeper red. Cordelia looked up at Eleanor's face.

The grief stricken young girl was gone, and in her place stood a powerful sorceress, cold and terrible. Her eyes were glowing black and her face was raised towards the ceiling. Her hair blew around in a non existent wind, and Cordelia was strongly reminded of Willow.

_So much for words_, Cordy thought, as Eleanor lifted her arms and dropped the talisman into the cauldron.

Cordelia had looked away, expecting some kind of monstrous explosion, but when none came she opened her eyes and looked back. The smoke was now white and Eleanor had moved over to her again, again looking meek and unimportant. The room was eerily quiet, which in some ways was worse than the bangs and booms of earlier. Eleanor was wrapping a white bandage around her cut hand, and looking at Cordelia. She held out the Orb to her. _It's time_.

The glup on her hands touched the Orb and Cordy felt her fingers go numb. The fear she had felt before was now gone, and all that mattered was finding out her path. What was she doing here? Why was she back? What was she supposed to do now?

Cordelia lifted the Orb up to her forehead and touched the blood on her skin. Everything changed.

* * *

.._stand alone.._

Light streams down into a lush green garden. Mountains loom in the distance, so far away, and yet so close. They rush towards her. The earth turns around.

_..walk alone.._

She stands on top of a building, the cold wind brushes against her body, she's alone. Voiceless. She feels empty and useless. A voice is lost somewhere in the distance, she wants it back. A flash of darkness, a woman's face, and then she is gone.

.._fight alone.._

Wood and dust. A book lies protected. A diamond on the cover. A red apple on a desk, a shining green light. Blurry figures. Writing, dreams. Metal pyramids. Paris.

.._die alone_..

Numbers. Dates. Times. A clock ticking.. 7.. 6.. 5.. 4..

.._stand together.._

She is in a room with a girl with messy black hair. She cut her hand. Blood everywhere. Eleanor. Lying on the floor, a bright light surrounds her. They are with her, but they are not.

.._walk together.._

A barren sky, a long road. Death and darkness on one side of the road. Light and beauty on the other. A dark figure at the end of the road. Light and darkness, turning around. Spinning forever. The earth turns around.

.._fight together.._

Night turns to day. A book opens, a diamond shatters. Lightning cracks overhead. Four figures stand in an alley, an army approaches. The roof falls in. Two people stand in a room, fighting against each other.. with each other.. against the world. Darkness conquers. The world cracks open. Chains again are bound. Fire burns, ash blows away the lies. The promise is not gone forever, but lost. The earth turns around once more.

_..live forever.._

* * *

Cordelia slumped onto the floor, breathing hard. A hand was on her arm, helping her. She looked up. Eleanor aided her into an upright position, and then sat down next to her. Cordelia shuddered with the weight of her knowledge. She laughed a small ironic laugh and wiped her bloody forehead. "They never just tell you what's going to happen, or what to do. It's always confusing and unclear.." she looked deeply into the witch's eyes, as though trying to find some comfort "..just like life." 

She took a deep breath. "I'm back for a reason, this is what was meant to happen. I know that much at least." She looked around. The ceiling was charred with red soot and the pentagram on the floor was no longer there. There were drops of blood on the ground and the air smelt like cigarettes and copper. "Thank you for helping me." She said, and meant it. There was something between them now, a strange bond that didn't feel as alien as it should have.

Cordelia stood up, Eleanor supporting her.

"Well.. time to go save the world..

..after a shower and a change of clothes anyway."

She was trying on her seventh pair of pants. They had gone shopping, Cordelia dying to get a feel for English fashion ("I may never get another chance!"), despite the impending doom. Eleanor needed to pick up a few things from the local boogie boogie store, so she had agreed to help Cordelia by paying for her clothes. She drew the line at seven pairs though.

She waved her hands when Cordy reached for an eighth pair. _That's enough._

Cordelia looked robbed. "If I'm going on some epic journey of terror and torment and and.. hey - _destiny!_ I have to be well prepared and well dressed and," she started to plead as Eleanor's expression grew impatient, "well.. we're going to be travelling a lot I suppose, and I don't have _any_ clothes."

Eleanor opened her wallet and showed Cordelia the contents. Cordelia sighed. "Ok, ok, I get the picture. We'll just take these and go then." Eleanor rolled her eyes and took the garments over to the counter.

It was a strange thing, to have your world (however crappy it was) turned upside down and to suddenly feel important and needed, when you didn't know why. For Eleanor it was as though all of a sudden the universe was giving her a second chance, and she felt almost selfish accepting. There were things that would never leave her, demons that she had to deal with some day, but for now an opportunity to get some sort of a life back had presented itself and Eleanor wasn't stupid.

At the same time Eleanor was thinking of her future, Cordelia was analysing her new friendship. She was at a loss to explain why the two of them were helping each other so suddenly and so readily. Usually there was scepticism and mistrust and all those other things; but now there seemed to be a mutual lack of understanding that was binding them together. They both had their reasons, albeit Cordelia's involved the greater good and forces beyond her control, but they were both committed, and that was enough for now.

After paying for Cordy's clothes they left the shop and went out on the paved city street (Cordelia had learned they were in Brighton). "Are we done?" Cordy asked Eleanor. The sun was setting in the sky and whilst she could spare a little time for shopping, Cordelia really needed to get a start on saving the world. Eleanor held up a finger, _almost_, and led Cordy down a side street. Cordelia had some clothes now, but she really wanted to get some weapons. But she knew that she needed to get to mainland Europe and she didn't think she'd get through customs armed to the teeth, so she figured weapons'd have to wait.

Eleanor knocked on a door half way down the street. The paint on the door was peeling and when it opened a stench of stale beer filled the air. A pub, and from the look of it, a private establishment. Eleanor didn't look very old and Cordelia couldn't imagine how she ever got a door pass, but they entered without any issues. She gave Cordy a very meaningful look as they crossed the threshold, and she immediately saw why.

It wasn't a conventional pub by any stretch of the imagination. There were shifty looking characters everywhere, masses of people in black hooded cloaks, and what seemed to be a whole table of witches in the centre of the room. Cordelia was amazed anyone could just walk into this place off a city street, but then, England seemed to be a pretty messed up place, so a pub full of mystical weirdos was probably comparatively normal.

There was not a lot of noise, as people kept their conversations quiet; there was sort of a mixed murmur filling the room. "Ok, I'm creeped out," she mumbled to Eleanor, as they walked over to the table of witches. An elderly woman with a dark green shawl and a long hooked nose looked intensely at Cordelia, then at Eleanor, then sighed. "It didn't work?" She asked the mute girl, rising from her chair and moving over to them. Eleanor shook her head, her face expressionless. "What are you going to do now?" She said, glancing again at Cordelia.

Eleanor did not reply for a moment, then began to use very rapid sign language, which the old witch clearly understood. After a few moments Cordy couldn't stand being left in the dark any longer.

"What're you saying? What are you going to do now with what? What didn't work?" She asked.

Eleanor stopped signing and looked slightly ashamed, then she walked away and sat down at the end of the table. The woman turned to Cordelia. "She wants to help you, she feels as though your arrival might be her fault. She's very confused, and she apologizes for not being able to explain things herself."

"I don't understand-"

"I can't tell it all, it is not for you to know now. She will come with you and help you, and you will help her. You are bound together."

The woman looked up just above Cordelia's head for a moment, then smiled. "Your love will guide her, and you will both find what you need the most."

* * *

"For some _bizzaro _reason I feel like a pawn on a chess board. Can't imagine _why_ in a million years _I'd_ feel like that. Me of all people!" Cordy said as she and Eleanor they left the pub half an hour later. "I'm groping around in the dark, and there's some giant hand in the sky giving me shoves in _what I hope_ is the right direction every now and then." They turned down another street, Eleanor quietly looking down at her shoes as they walked. 

"I don't like feeling like I don't have a say in anything. What's the point in life if it's all decided before we even get there?" She sighed, and gave Eleanor an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Ellie - can I call you Ellie? – I talk too much; all my friends would definitely tell you I talk too much." Eleanor waved her hand in dismissal, and smiled sadly. _I don't mind._

Cordelia snorted, "You'd be the first one," then she also smiled and said, "thanks.. I know this is all very strange, and you seem to be taking it all very calmly, which in itself is strange but then again you-"

Her sentence was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a man standing in the alley in front of them. He wore a long black trench coat and he was smiling.

"Evening ladies," he said as they halted warily. "Need help getting home? Two beautiful young women such as yourselves shouldn't be wandering around at night unprotected. It's a dangerous world." He grinned even more, and suddenly his face changed. His forehead contracted, his eyes turned yellow and two sharp fangs grew from his teeth. "Very dangerous."

Cordelia groaned and rolled her eyes. "Do English vampires always talk this much? I mean really! Back home you'd just be swooping in and trying to bite us, but no, you Brits have always gotta get in some kind of a line. What's up with that?" She tipped her head to the side. The vampire was looking apprehensive now, and didn't approach any further. Cordelia filled in the gap for him, walking forward slowly with confidence – she didn't have time for this crap.

"That's right facial boy, I know what you are, and I am not afraid of you." She said, putting her hands in her pockets and looking totally relaxed, "Surprised?"

"Slayer.." He said slowly, retreating a few steps as she advanced on him. He snarled at her. Cordy was stunned momentarily, and a little flattered, but recovered quickly enough for him not to notice. "Got it in one." She had a sudden inspiration. "Name's Faith. I've come across the sea for a little European vacation. A little sun, a little dust. Maybe you've heard of me, I happen to be a psychotic killing machine, _very unstable.. _and _you_." She said coldly, leaning forward, "are in my way." She glared at him. He ran.

Cordy didn't have time to go after him, so she laughed quietly and turned to Eleanor, who seemed to be in slight shock. She stared down the alley after the vampire, then with her mouth still slightly open, looked back at Cordelia.

"Am I really a Slayer?" Cordelia smiled, and continued on walking. "Nope. I'm just a girl."

* * *

Cordy didn't like ferries. They bobbed and swayed too much and she always felt like she was about to tip over. They made her nauseas. Eleanor didn't notice the boat, she was only looking at the sea. It played a sort of music to her, a calming melody that was so quiet it was more felt than heard. The water was smooth and silky, flowing peacefully on forever until something interrupted it causing everything to change. A ship like this one would barge on through and the waves would split directions and break upon the ship's bow, spilling off into an ocean of vastness. There was no finality. No absoluteness; it was always changing. It was beautiful. 

Cordelia watched her mute friend staring into the distance, an expression of wonder just visible on her usually well-masked face. That was a good sign, she'd been very un-sociable since they'd passed through customs. Cordy looked down at the passport in her lap.

"_Sandra Dolbeer_" it said, and showed a smiling portrait of the woman in Eleanor's drawings. Her sister, who Cordelia assumed had passed away.  
Cordelia had needed a passport to get across the sea, to reach Europe, and Eleanor had had one. The woman did not look a lot like Cordelia, but they had made it through anyway, and now they had started their journey.

Cordelia felt strange passing as Eleanor's older sister, for starters she had had to put on a fake British accent, and she hadn't been very good at it. The main thing troubling her though was the effect it was having on Eleanor. The girl had turned even more withdrawn than before, and Cordy had been starting to think that nothing could revert her depression. She looked like a girl whose past was following her around all the time, haunting her. Grief sometimes did that to people, but Cordelia knew better. People that you'd lost didn't want to see you suffer because of them, they wanted you to remember, but not to regret.

Cordy sighed and went back to focusing on trying not to throw up. They had left Brighton, travelled to Newhaven, and were now on the ferry to Pierre in France. It would take them four hours to reach the Continent, then once they reached Pierre they would need to find some sort of transport to Paris. Cordelia had been trying to figure out what the message the Powers sent her meant. She knew how important it was, whatever it was she had to do. She knew she had to go to Paris, she knew something important was going to happen there.

When she slept she had dreams of a temple, high up in the mountains. She kept dreaming that she was standing on top of a building, and that a great rush of wind would blow her off and she would fall. Then she would wake up, covered in sweat and convinced she was still plummeting from that great height. Cordy didn't know what this meant, maybe it was just a dream, but regardless - it scared her.

When they reached Pierre, Cordelia and Eleanor managed to book a ticket on a bus that travelled to the country's Capitol. They were beginning to run out of money, and Cordy had no idea what they were going to do for accommodation once they got to Paris. Sometimes she wished that the comic book superheros were more like the real heroes; she could really use a rich benefactor with unlimited resources and technology. The Powers were a bit stingy when it came to saving the world. Cordy thought of Wolfram & Hart, and sighed. All that money and her friends.. a phone call away really. But she knew that she couldn't go running off to Angel, that would unravel everything she'd worked for.

She imagined talking to him again, "Hello Angel. I'm not dead! How was your summer?" and snorted. Life was a real bitch sometimes, never simple, never easy; always painful. She couldn't escape it. It was a prison, and she was trapped. She hadn't wanted to die, but a part of her wanted some sort of comfort. She didn't have that anymore. She'd wanted to stay with Angel, to be there with the rest of them; Wesley, Fred, Gunn, Lorne.. but she knew it had been her time. At least she thought she had known. Now she was back in the game, but she was alone and confused. And burdened with responsibility and worry. She couldn't imagine going back home and finding no one there. She couldn't deal with that.

Cordy tried to break her depressing train of thought, and watched Eleanor for a few moments, her eyes still fixed on the sea, her face a brick wall once more. Cordelia followed her gaze and spotted land approaching. _We're here already_, thought Cordy, picking up her bag and moving over to stand beside the dark haired witch.

* * *

Paris was wonderful. The two girls stood at the top of a street packed with people, shops and life and looked whimsically down at them. Well, _Cordy_ looked whimsically down at them. It was a beautiful city, full of life, colour, (fashion) and happiness. A romantic city. Cordelia sighed, forcing herself to walk past a large and expensive-looking shoe store. As much as she had always wanted to come here and shop, and do all of those wonderful other Paris related thingies; she had a lot more important things on her agenda. 

They wandered down the street, Cordy not really having any clue on where they were supposed to go to now, and Eleanor being her usual silent following self. They passed a building that looked strangely familiar. Cordy stopped and stared up at it. Her mouth dropped open. She knew that building, or at least she knew one that looked identical to it. She read the sign out the front;

_Wolfram & Hart_

_Mandataires À la Loi_

It looked _exactly_ like the one in LA! Cordy couldn't believe it; it was just too weird! She then remembered that Wolfram & Hart were a very large, very evil and probably very _boring_ organisation, so diversity and style were probably not high up on their architecture priorities. Cordelia then experienced a very strange sensation. She looked at Wolfram & Hart and her mind filled with thoughts of the man she had left behind, half a world away. She felt a terrible emptiness inside herself, and for the first time in her life Cordelia felt an uncontrollable urge to rush inside those big shiny evil doors and beg for help. She _wanted_ to go into Wolfram & Hart.

She felt tears rushing to her eyes, and she tried desperatley to focus her feelings on something else.. guard herself against emotions like these. _The Powers didn't give you a second chance at life so you could throw it all away, _she told herself. Angel was across the other side of the world; going in there now would ruin everything. _You can't be with him anymore_.

Eleanor touched Cordelia on the arm, bringing her out of her reverie. "Sorry," she said, ripping her eyes away and continuing on, "Letting go of old memories."

* * *

They caught another bus, this one was a free service ("Thank god!") that circled around parts of the city. Cordy was hoping that she'd get another clue or reminder on where she had to go now, and she wasn't disappointed. The bus passed an enormous old building, where a crowd of people were scattered around a large courtyard, which was decorated with fountains and _large sculpted pyramids_. They had been in her vision. Cordelia's eyes widened and she gaped through the bus window. 

The bus pulled over, and Cordy grabbed Eleanor's arm and raced to the doors to get off among the crush of other people who had the same idea. Cordelia had instantly recognized the building, aside from it being in her vision - it was famous. She berated herself for not remembering it earlier. _The Louvre_. The most famous art museum in Paris. In Europe. It was spectacular, and she had found it.

She felt a wave of relief as the two of them entered the courtyard, Cordy explaining to Eleanor that this was one of the places she saw in her vision. They paid and entered, opting to go on a guided tour in a hope of not wandering around blindly. It was a big place. There were paintings and carvings and loads of beautiful and historical things to spend time gazing at, but Cordy was only looking for purpose. For her questions to be answered.

After around half an hour of Cordy trying to hide the fact that she was gnawing on her liver with nerves, their tour stopped at a glass box where an old, dilapidated book was perched on a large black pedestal. The woman guiding the tour turned to them and spoke in her thick French accent. "This is one of our recently donated items. The period from which it came from is yet to be determined, but it is very fragile, suggesting its great age. The language has not been identified or translated, so we really don't know that much about it. It remains somewhat of a mystery for us! Hopefully it will not take too long to solve, however." She smiled at them, "Now over here we have-" The woman moved off, the group looking over the book briefly, and then following her. Cordelia and Eleanor, however, remained. This was the book, this is what they came here for.

The cover showed a great blue diamond, half in shadow, half in light. Cordy stared at it. "This is it.. this is what we.. wait.. how the hell are we going to look at it now?" She looked around. They were in one of the most heavily guarded buildings in the world, and this was a rare and probably incredibly valuable item. "Dammit!" Said Cordy in frustration, realising her situation. What the hell was she going to do now? _Plan Cordy, plan!_ She looked around wildly, Eleanor now staring at the book and squinting. "See anything?" Cordelia asked her, "Got any ideas?" Eleanor shook her head, but did not look up. Cordy wanted to swear really loudly, and break things, but she opted for catching up with their tour, as loitering near an object they had half a mind to steal was probably not the smartest move.

Afterwards they went to a café nearby; Cordelia collapsed at a table and put her face in her hands. She needed her team with her! She needed Angel. She needed help! She needed a god damn plan, and her brain just didn't want to provide! She had felt so relieved at finding that place, then to be stumped like this; it was a real blow. She lowered one arm, resting her head on her left hand, and looked at Eleanor, who was a cup of drinking tea and watching Cordy with emotionless eyes.

This girl was all she had. Eleanor had to be able to do something to help her, why the hell else was she here? Cordy felt kind of selfish and bitchy thinking that, but her pensive and frustrated mood was getting the better of her. Cordelia's anger turned skyward. The Powers. The Powers and their damn not-getting-to-the-point-directly-ness! She wanted to smack somebody.

Eleanor stared at her. She looked really upset, perhaps brought on by Cordelia's angry fracial expressions. Eleanor had a "I wish I could help, but I can't" look on her face, that caused Cordy a sort of internal pain. This girl was starting to remind her of herself, back when she was pathetic and useless and always getting in the way. Not that, Eleanor was any of those things really..

Cordy tried pulling herself together; she couldn't give up this easily, she'd been in worse pickles than this. Of course, in those situations she'd had her close friends with her, most of whom happened to be highly heroic and built for dealing with these problems. Now all she had was a depressed anti-social witch from England, who was only staying with her out of guilt. She needed someone she trusted, someone who could help her out, someone that wouldn't mess up Angel's plans. She needed..

Cordelia's eyes were drawn to two people that had just entered the café. They were both women, one had long dark brown hair and walked with great confidence, the other had red hair and was smiling broadly. Arm in arm, the two came inside and walked over to a table and sat down, acting like a normal couple in love. As striking and beautiful as the dark haired woman was, it had been the red head that had stolen Cordy's attention. She knew this person very well, she had most of her life. Willow.

Cordelia sat in shock, Eleanor now eyeing her with some concern. The dark haired woman stood up and went over to the counter to order drinks, Willow watching her go with a smile on her face. Her gaze fell from her partner, and she automatically looked around the rest of the room. Her eyes met Cordelia's. Willows mouth opened in shock.

* * *

They sat there for a few moments, staring at each other. Cordelia finally regained her composure and stood up, bumping her legs on the table. "I'll be back in a minute," she said to Eleanor, rubbing her thigh, and moving over to Willow's table. Willow's mouth was still open, and her expression was growing almost terrified, as Cordelia came closer. 

"Hi," she said. Willow didn't reply.

The other woman had come back from the counter carrying a tray laden with cake and coffees. She stopped and looked at Cordelia. "Who are you?" She said, putting the tray down on the table, but not taking her seat.

"I'm Cordelia Chase. I'm an old friend of Willow's." She said, still reeling from the shock of this uncanny coincidence. She held out her hand. The woman didn't take it. She stared at Cordy.

"You're who?" She asked, now starting to look surprised and somewhat _dangerous_.

"..Cordelia Chase. We.. we used to go to school together." Said Cordy, looking back at Willow for some support, but Willow still seemed to be incapable of speaking.

The woman shook her head, taking a menacing step forward. "You're not Cordelia Chase."

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Really?" She said, and put one hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side.

"Cordelia Chase is dead. We got a call last week. She died in a coma, over in Los Angeles." The woman put her hand in her pocket, and Cordelia felt almost threatened.

_How do I explain something even I don't fully understand? _

She took a breath, and a stab in the dark, and then said, "Yes. Yes she did. But this week there's been a development, and she's come back to life after some extremely wacky circumstances. She's not dead anymore. She's standing right in front of you.. and she's.. speaking in third person." Cordy made a face, then recovered and said, "_I'm_ Cordelia Chase. Always have been and always will be. You're going to have to trust me on that, because it's the truth."

The woman stared at her, then looked at Willow, noticing the stunned, incapacitated expression on her lovers face. "Willow?" She asked, touching her arm. Willow flinched, and looked down at the woman's hand on her arm then back up at Cordelia, her eyes still wide in shock.

Cordelia gave her what she hoped was a sort of encouraging smile, "It's me Willow. You know it is."

They looked at each other. Finally Willow spoke. "How?" She said softly, looking confused and upset, "How can.. how.. does Angel know?"

Cordelia looked down at the ground. "No. No he doesn't. And he can't know."

"What? Why not – he'll, he'll be over the moon! He was so upset about it he couldn't even call people - he made Wesley do it!" Willow's youthful energy was once more coming back into her face as she spoke, and the surprise and shock was fading.

"It's complicated. Hang on a second," Cordelia turned and beckoned for Eleanor to come join them. She picked up their drinks and carried them over to the table. "This is my friend Eleanor – Eleanor this is Willow.. and..?"

"Kennedy," The dark haired woman introduced herself, still not shaking anyone's hands. She pulled over a couple of chairs, eyeing Cordelia and Eleanor with suspicion.

The four of them sat down, and Cordelia began to explain.

"So.. so now what are you going to do?" Willow asked once she had finished talking. Cordy sighed.

"I don't know," She rubbed her hand on her forehead, "I came here because of my vision, expecting to be able to.. I don't know – figure out what I have to do! I mean, I know Higher Powers deal in the cryptic, and I didn't really expect the road to be laid out before me so that all I had to do was pass go and collect my 200.. but.. I'm lost now! I know I need to get this book from The Louvre, and well – it's a virtual impossibility for me to steal it, plus even if I somehow managed to get it it's written in some crazy ancient language that the _world's best_ nerds haven't yet been able to decipher, so what hope do I have?"

Willow's eyes brightened. "Well I haven't had a go yet, and I'm a bigger nerd than all those nerds put together!" She looked a little defensive, "In a good way that is."

Kennedy put her arm around Willow's shoulders. "Always," She said softly. Willow smiled, and then continued on, "But as far as getting the book it looks like we've got a problem.. oh wait! No we don't!"

Cordelia's eyebrows shot toward her hair line. "We don't?"

Willow looked excited, "Well I'm not sure what we'll do about deciphering the book, I might be able to help, but well we'll have to see. But - I know of a way for us to get it – or at least read it."

Cordelia's eyes widened. "You do? How?"

Willow sat back in her chair and grinned, "It's pretty basic magic. I create a glamour! Which is like – a bubble, that sort of stops time. Or, well suspends time, you know, so like, when you use it, you're in a bubble of time. Like a second passes outside the bubble, but within it, you've got like – ten minutes."

"Great! I mean – wait, how would that help?"

"Well.. we go into the museum, I put up a glamour, we steal the book.. or that being illegal and wrong we just take photos of the pages or something.. and well - without anyone noticing, so we won't get in trouble and yes! Yes it would help, and work! I think yes, anyway." She gave the half smile that was so characteristically Willow that Cordelia could've kissed her! ..Except that that would've been wrong and icky and Kennedy probably would've beaten her to death with her own shoes..

"Well, so do we do this thing?" Cordy asked, leaning over the table.

"I'd need a few things, I'm kind of low on supplies, but it shouldn't take too long for me to get stuff. There's always a glamour _crystal_.. I hear there are a few of them around, but it's probably a lot easier and.. well cheaper if I do it the old fashioned way." She paused, and then gave Cordelia an explanation look. "Spells and stuff."

Cordy nodded and then turned to Eleanor, "Umm.. it's just a question, but could you have done this sort of thing? Put up a glamour? I mean you are a witch, wouldn't that be something you could do too?"

Eleanor took an audible breath then shook her head and waved her hands in front of her face in a defeated sort of way. Cordelia raised one eyebrow, but Willow cut in, saying kindly, "No.. for for glamours you have to speak magic words and stuff.." She looked apologetically at Eleanor. "You have to do that for most small magics."

"Oh." Said Cordelia, looking back and forth between the two witches. "So, so there's a lot of magic you can't do, Eleanor? Because you can't speak?"

Eleanor sighed and nodded. Then she looked off in another direction, reverting to her depressed, non-involvement state. Cordelia felt another pang of sadness for her, but then her thoughts switched to more important things, and she turned back to Willow.

"Is this glamour thing evil? I mean, is there any danger.. doing one?"

Willow shook her head, "Well no, it's more of a neutral sort of spell. I would usually be able to just whip one up like – right now, but I've been low on supplies since we dealt with this witch-slaying demon a few weeks ago.."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. Willow looked darkly at Kennedy, "He was really not nice and.. well he was rude too! Said a whole bunch of nasty stuff and.. and he stole most of my stuff.." she paused, and then with a menacing glint in her eye finished with, "bastard."

Kennedy smiled at Cordelia, patting Willow on the arm in a commiserating sort of way, "I killed him."

Cordelia nodded, a little intimidated by her brusque-ness, and said "Good for you."

Willow had returned from her momentary spark of anger and was back in the conversation, "I've got some connections, it shouldn't be too hard to get stuff. I don't know many people here in Paris though. We were just stopping by here, we're actually living in Brazil," she shot Kennedy a smile, "but we were planning a surprise visit for Buffy and Dawn, who are in Rome. And well," she looked a little bit guilty, "coming to Europe – you can't pass up the chance to come to Paris.. romance capitol of the world and all.." She looked at Kennedy again, and the two exchanged a loving look.

This made Cordelia feel all hot in the face, and was happy when Willow severed their gaze and continued speaking, "We've only been here a couple of days, we were planning on staying until Saturday. But – seeing as this is all really serious stuff, I s'pose we can stay longer. Help you out."

Cordelia said, "You don't know how much that means to me. Thank you."

Kennedy was squinting at them, "We're staying in a hotel not far from here, we can pay for rooms for you two."

"That would be _so _wonderful. We are _totally_ running out of money! ..And - um.. yes, well - thanks." Cordelia finished, and Kennedy nodded in acknowledgement.

Willow looked like she had just remembered something, "Hey, Cordy – you remember last time we saw each other, back when you guys let Angelus out and he was trying to kill everybody-"

"It wasn't me!" Cordelia cut in. Willow looked a little confused.

Cordelia explained. "My body was hijacked by an evil higher power that used me to sleep with Angel's son in order for get me pregnant so it could give birth to itself, leaving me in a deathly coma that I never really woke up from – only.. sort of I did.. with the whole saving Angel thing.. but then well no I didn't 'cause of my death and all and.." she took a big breath, "I just wanted you to know it wasn't me.. because of how close you came to getting killed by.. the thing that was me.. but wasn't.."

Willow stared at Cordelia.

"Not that it was me, like I said, the whole – higher power thing. I, she.. it.. it threw a knife at you as you were leaving my bedroom, when you remembered how you could save Angel – it nearly got you! The knife that is! I just wanted to say I was sorry, and I.. this is weird, I'm sorry.. a.. again." Cordelia was wincing, all of this information having come out wrong and badly strung together - like one of Spike's poems.

Willow's eyebrows contracted, then she shrugged. "It's not weird Cordy. Nothing's weird anymore. It's – well actually I already knew. Not about the whole.. you trying to kill me thing – that's a newbie, but I did know about the higher power thing. Angel told me when he.. when you.. um.." She looked uncomfortable. Cordy looked away.

"Are you sure we can't tell him? He's so.. lonely and.. and.. well you know how he is." She looked sad, and reached out and touched Cordy on the hand.

Cordelia looked up at the ceiling; the emotional brick wall she had been trying to build around her personal feelings was starting to fall down.. not that it had been much of a barrier in the first place. She sat for a moment, then she said, almost to herself, "Yeah I know how he is.." She sighed deeply, and looked back at Willow. "That's why we can't tell him."

_

* * *

_

_End Chapter_

_

* * *

_

**References/Quotes:**

(it's a fan fic, I'm allowed to borrow.. cough steal cough lines & ideas!)

"**..Everything seemed to be a mildly amusing television program" **

I really like that description, so blushes I _borrowed it_.. anyway.. Luna watches Harry on the train in Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix and JKR says that she's watching him like he was a mildly amusing television program. I liked it.

**"The local boogie boogie store," **

Stealing from the source! Angelus says this, or something similar, in season two Buffy.. I think maybe in _Passion_?

"**Hello Angel. I'm not dead! How was your summer?" **

More stealing from the source, this time from my favourite ep of ANGEL season five, _Damage_; Spike says to Andrew (miming what he would say to Buffy about his return from death), "Hey Buffy, I didn't burn up like you thought." In a ironic kind of way, because of his sacrifice and such he's not about to go running off to her. The same sort of situation with the backfromthedead!Cordy thing, so..

"**It looked _exactly_ like the one in LA!" **

This is not really a quote, but I thought I'd include it in case people were scratching their heads, and didn't pay attention during _The Girl In Question_ (the ep with Spike & Angel running around Rome looking for Buffy) where they go to the W&H in Rome and it's totally identical to the LA one. I figure that'd be universal.

"**..Badly strung together - like one of Spike's poems."**

Not a quote at all, but I just want to say that I actually like spike's poems (yes, I'm probably one of the few) – and I'm just taking the piss, so don't take that one as a slag on him. I love Spike. A lot. Who doesn't?

**

* * *

**

**NEXT CHAPTER:** Illegal activities, slayer memories, different dimensions, astral projection, a couple of phone calls, bit more about Eleanor, someone wants a giant band-aid, the plot thickens, things gets a bit chilly.. and Cordy finally gets some answers to all those deep meaningful questions! Ooh, and we get closer to NFA! Which means "closer to Angel and the gang". Yay!

* * *

Liked it? Hated it? Suggestions? Think you know what might happen next? **Please review!**


	2. HIGH UP

**CIRCLES**

CHAPTER TWO: HIGH UP

**_

* * *

_**

**_I know it's not even close to over, but I do feel like I can do this. Wolfram & Hart, whatever's coming, I feel like we can beat it. _**

**_I know. _**

_-Angel & Cordelia, You're Welcome, Season Five _

* * *

Cordelia looked around nervously, trying not to appear like she was. She knew she shouldn't feel guilty about all this, because she needed to do it. She _needed_ to. The fate of the world might depend on this. Thinking about it now - she didn't really feel all _that_ guilty about it, which was maybe causing her to feel guilty because she _didn't _feel guilty. This all made her head hurt. What was important was that she wasn't doing anything wrong on a grand scale. The world wasn't going to save itself; she had been sent back from death to do this stuff, and The Powers had sent her _here_ to get this book, so she had to get it. As simple as that.

Cordelia pushed her chin up. She was built for doing stuff like this. This was part of what she was back for, this was her destiny.

She took a few ragged breaths and swayed on the spot. Then, as suddenly as though a giant hand had smacked her backwards, Cordelia fainted.

* * *

A great rush of people were hurrying down the corridor towards some sort of commotion. A few people were shouting. This was the signal, and Willow, Kennedy and Eleanor who were standing next the glass encased pedestal, turned around to try and appear to look concerned and interested as people rushed past them towards Cordelia's distraction. Willow knelt down onto the ground, and with the appearance of tying her shoelace, took a bottle out of her pocket and tipped a drop of liquid onto the floor. She spoke, and her voice was not quiet, "_Tres ambire involvere!"_ A big flash went off around them, and Willow moved over to the cabinet. "Ok," she whispered. "We've got about seven minutes." She turned around, making sure that everything around them appeared frozen in time. It did. A man rushing over towards the commotion Cordelia had perfectly set up had his eyes wide and bulging and his tongue poking out between his lips. He was stuck in a very unflattering position; people always looked awful when you still-framed them. The sound was creepy too. Everything had suddenly gone incredibly quiet, and the only noises that could be heard were coming from Willow, Kennedy and Eleanor themselves. There was no background noise, no hum of insects or machines, no distant rumble of traffic, no people whispering or shoes scraping along the floor. There was nothing. Kennedy looked down at the glass. "And you're sure this won't set off some sort of alarm?" she asked Willow, her hand hovering next to the case, ready to do her part. Willow smiled at her, stepping around to the back of the pedestal and beginning to tinker with the wires that were set up to alert security if the glass was removed. The other two women waited for a few moments, until Willow stepped back, finished. Eleanor pulled a book out of her bag. They had made up a fake version of the real book, Eleanor using her exceptional artistic skills to copy the cover. The two weren't identical, but they simply needed to fool people long enough to get the hell away from the building. They had been careful to avoid getting their faces caught on the surveillance cameras, had used fake ID's to get inside, and Willow had set up an disillusion spell so that people would for the most part ignore them. Cordelia was their bait, waiting until it was time to cause a distraction so that there were very few people around where the felony was about to take place. The whole thing had taken five days to set up, which considering the place they were stealing from, was a pretty good achievement. Willow had not wanted to steal The Book itself at first, preferring to try and make some kind of record of it, but Cordelia convinced her that they might need the original. There were much bigger things at stake here than the disappearance of some mystical book from an art gallery.

Kennedy put both hands on either side of the cabinet, and pulled. The cabinet made a creaking noise then the lid pulled clean off. She smiled and said, "Sometimes it's good to be a Slayer." Willow gave her a quick grin and then moved forward to inspect The Book. After a short time she drew back. "Huh!" she said, looking a little bit like she had been robbed of a treat, "There isn't even a secondary trigger. I guess because it's a new item.." she shrugged, and gestured for Eleanor to swap the books over.

Eleanor picked up The Book, and put down her fake copy. It felt old in her hands. Very old. The cover was rough and splintering, and all of a sudden Eleanor felt happier than she had in a long time. Years, maybe. Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment of finally getting hold of The Book. The thing felt positively ancient, and Eleanor worried she might break or damage it if she held it too long, so she put it carefully into her bag, covering it with a woollen jumper to keep it safe and concealed. Kennedy placed the lid of the cabinet back onto the pedestal, and they all stood back to admire the effect. There was a thin line around the glass where a knowing eye could see it had been broken, but unless you were looking for it you could hardly see anything had been disturbed. Willow moved back and rewired the cables.

After she had finished, the three moved back into the positions they were in before they had set up the glamour. They waited.

The sudden burst of noise alerted them to the collapse of the glamour. Willow stood up from "tying her shoe", and Kennedy and Eleanor moved away from the glass and over towards the mass of people. The three of them had planned to do a quick curious glance, and then to leave as soon as possible. They were going to rendezvous with Cordelia back at their hotel later on.

So far no security guards had come swooping down on them, but they weren't about to linger.

Cordelia lay on the floor, as still as a death itself, a circle of people surrounding her. Her hair was strewn out across the floor and all over her face and her hands lay limply at her sides. A trickle of blood escaped her lips and flowed down the side of her cheek.

A woman beside Cordelia was checking her pulse. She turned to a man next to her and said something in French. He moved forward and lifted her head upwards slightly. Cordelia stirred.

There was a hushed murmur of reassurance that passed through the surrounding spectators, as they saw she wasn't dead. Cordelia groaned, and her eyelids flickered open.

Willow and Kennedy exchanged a quick look. Kennedy took Eleanor by the hand and the two of them moved off. Willow, however, moved forward towards Cordelia.

"Uhh..?" Cordelia said in a barely audible voice, as she tried to sit up properly. Willow squatted down beside her and took hold of one of her hands. "She's my friend," said Willow, looking over at the French woman that had checked her pulse before. "What happened?" she asked, hoping the woman spoke English.

"She fell. She.. fainted," said the woman after a moment. Cordelia held up a shaky hand and wiped her mouth. The blood came off on her hand and when she looked at it her eyes widened. Cordelia tried to speak again. "Something.. hit me." she croaked. Willow looked over at the woman, asking for confirmation. She woman shook her head, "There was.. nothing there. She was simply standing and then she fell."

Cordelia spoke again and they fell silent, "Like.. took.. wind out of me." Willow squeezed Cordelia's hand. The French woman said quietly, "Does she have any medical conditions? Any recent trauma or health problems?"

Willow thought, _Aside from being dead for five days and being in a coma for six months?_ But instead said, "Not that I know of. Do you think we should take her to a hospital?"

Cordelia tried to move her head, "No.. I'll be ok.. I just.." Her breath suddenly became more rapid and then her eyes rolled up.. turning white.. she began to shake, clearly having a fit.

The French woman grabbed her around the arms and started shouting in French, the people surrounding them backed away. Cordelia stopped convulsing and slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Kennedy and Eleanor exited the building. Cordelia had not been supposed to take it this far, she was simply supposed to have started a distraction. Something had gone wrong.

The two women stepped out through the exit to the gallery and onto the paved courtyard. They had barely taken a few steps when they were suddenly confronted by four large muscular men in suits. A fifth man, who was much shorter and thinner than the other men, was standing in the centre of the group. He was very well dressed in a blue suit and matching tie; his blonde hair parted evenly to one side. He wore a pair of square framed glasses pressed right up to his eyes and had a rather poncy looking well kept beard. He smiled at the two of them.

"Well," he said in a very mild and well spoken French accent, "I was expecting something a little more impressive. The first successful burglary of The Louvre in.. well.. quite a while now! But instead I find two young women, who.." he peered at Eleanor, "are probably _amateur_ witches."

Neither of the girls spoke, Eleanor obviously not being able to, and Kennedy deciding this to be a moment for listening.

The blonde man's expression was calm, and he clapped his hands together. "But where are my manners? My name is Antonin Vasser, and I am a representative of an agency here in Paris known as Wolfram & Hart. Perhaps you've heard of us?" he smiled again, a smile lacking any warmth or sincerity, and full of deception and self-superiority.

"We monitored your glamour spell," he said pleasantly. "Yes, The Louvre are clients of ours, and you probably ought to have considered that we would have implemented some sort of detection spell, or spells as is the case here, in order to prevent robberies such as this one." He held up a finger, "And don't bother trying anything now – we've got a series of anti-magic devices in place. So you two witches aren't getting away."

Kennedy looked darkly him, her eyes glinting menacingly in the sun, "You see, that's where you've messed up your information."

Vasser raised his eyebrows, his expression still as serene as ever, "Oh. How so?"

Kennedy moved forward, "_I'm_ not a witch," she said with a grin - and punched him in the face. The four other men moved towards her, but Kennedy was too fast for them, swirling around and sending her boot into the jaw of the first man. He stumbled and crashed into one of his compatriots. Kennedy ducked a blow from one of the others and then kneed him in the chest. He got back up and she swung at his head. This time she missed, and the man she had kicked in the face had the opportunity to recover and come at her from behind, punching her in the back. She fell to the ground. The one she had kneed in the chest prepared to kick her, but she grabbed his foot and lifted him backwards, tipping him over. He crashed to the ground, allowing Kennedy time to get to her feet and then spring over him. Vasser was struggling to his feet and rubbing his jaw. He looked around in disgust, as Kennedy engaged in combat with another of his guards, then pulled a gun out of his jacket. He aimed it at Eleanor and fired.

It all happened in a blur, Eleanor had been trying to avoid being in some way involved in the fight, and then suddenly she was lying on the ground. Kennedy had pushed her over just in time, and the bullet had gone whizzing past. Vasser aimed at the two of them again, but Kennedy rolled off of Eleanor and kicked his legs out from under him, sending him and his gun to the floor once more.

Kennedy yelled at Eleanor to run, and the two of them took off through the courtyard. After a moment the men from Wolfram & Hart were on their tail. Kennedy took a glance back as they reached the street out the front of the museum, and caught a glimpse of their pursuers, as well as a very disgruntled looking Vasser punching buttons on his mobile phone. Soon, they were going to have a lot more company; they needed to get away, and fast.

Kennedy taking the lead they ran across the street, almost crashing into three cars and a taxi before they hit the footpath on the opposite side of the road. They raced down it, the men halting the traffic as they tried to follow. Not sure how long Eleanor would be able to sustain their pace, Kennedy decided she needed a quick solution to their problem. There was a large shopping complex just ahead, and Kennedy signalled for Eleanor to follow her in. They entered, hoping to lose themselves in a crowd of people.

Unfortunately there were not many people in the mall, and those who were there all stopped to look as the two girls ran in through the front doors. _So much for that plan,_ thought Kennedy, not stopping to consider another one, and continuing down through the lines of shops. They followed the main corridor, but there were many other aisles of shops branching out on either side. Eleanor was beginning to tire but she continued on running, only a few lengths behind the Slayer.

The two dark haired women passed a security guard, who attempted to halt them, saying something in French and holding up his hand, but they kept on running. He yelled louder, and then joined in their pursuit.

Eleanor and Kennedy saw the other exit to the shopping centre, and headed for it. Kennedy glanced back over her shoulder, but she couldn't spot the four men from Wolfram & Hart, and could only see the security guard, his moustache jiggling away and loud French commands spewing from his lips. Kennedy didn't like not being able to see the men, suddenly having a bad feeling about leaving through the far exit. She made up her mind and skidded to a halt, Eleanor pulling up behind her puffing with exhaustion. The security guard didn't have time to yell any more French at them, as Kennedy punched him in the face as soon as he'd caught up to them. He fell down onto the ground, and a couple of onlookers screamed. Kennedy didn't have time to be discreet or feel sorry for him; he'd be more or less alright in a few hours.

Kennedy grabbed Eleanor's arm and pulled her towards the left, passing a confectionary shop, then a liquor store, then breaking into another run as they started down a different corridor. Kennedy could hear the distant thud of bass and music, and turned down another line of shops following the sound. There were more people down here, and the music grew louder as they got further along the corridor. Suddenly the hall openined up into an atrium. There was a very large group of people clustered around a great stage in the middle of the room, screaming and jumping up and down as a French pop band performed for them. Kennedy and Eleanor slowed down and moved in to blend with the fans. The music was truly awful, but the mass of people who had turned out to watch them were clearly entertained. Kennedy took Eleanor by the hand again and began the arduous task of weaving through the crowd towards the other end of the mall. Looking back, Kennedy finally spotted their four giant pursuers, who were all looking around into the crowd in vain. Kennedy took off her jacket and let it drop to the floor. She tried to talk to Eleanor through the noise to suggest to her to change her appearance in some way, but the whining of the singers and the thump of the instruments, coupled with the screaming and chanting of the supporters made it almost impossible for her to be heard. Eleanor somehow got the message though, and took the jumper she had wrapped the book up in out and put it on.

After a few more minutes of pushing and shoving through the crowd, the two women emerged on the other side of the stage. Despite an overwhelming urge to keep running, they forced themselves to walk at a sedate pace back through the shops to find an exit. They had successfully lost the Wolfram & Hart lackeys, and now simply had to make it back to their hotel, where they would rendezvous with Willow and Cordelia later on.

* * *

Willow sat by Cordelia's bedside in the American Hospital of Paris. They had been there for about four hours; Willow had tried calling the hotel to check in with Kennedy and Eleanor, but had as of yet got no reply. Cordelia was not in a coma, as Willow had initially feared, and the doctors had only just let Willow in to see her, after assuring her that she would be alright. Willow held Cordelia's hand as she sat in silence.

Cordy looked pale and uncomfortable, her brow constantly twitching and her mouth moving wordlessly in her sleep. Willow sat with her for a full half an hour until suddenly Cordelia jerked awake. She sat up, gasping. Willow leaned over to her, taking both of Cordy's hands in her own, as they shook in confusion and panic. Cordelia's eyes focused on Willow's face. "Willow.." she said.. giving the red headed witch an exhausted smile, "Oh.. I thought.. I was.. falling.."

"You're alright Cordy, I'm here. We're.. we're in a hospital. And everything's OK."

Cordelia suddenly sat bolt upright, all sign of tiredness and fatigue instantly gone. "Someone attacked me, Willow. Or.. something."

Willow looked confused, and asked "What was it?"

Cordelia's eyes searched the room, as though trying to remember, "I.. I don't know. I was getting ready to make the distraction and it hit me. It was.. it was like – on a different level of reality. Magic or something."

Willow nodded slowly, "I thought it might've been, the way you reacted. How do you feel?" she asked.

Cordelia put her left hand over her eyes, "Like I've just eaten a bucket of very cold ice cream."

Willow laughed, and then she looked around, "Well.. if you're feeling alright, we probably need to get back to the hotel."

Cordelia listened to that statement and smiled, her mind thinking of another hotel, far away from here. Then, her hand falling from her face and her eyes snapping open, she suddenly remembered, "The book? What happened? Did we get it?" she demanded.

Willow made a face, "I don't know," she said, then seeing Cordelia's horror, quickly continued with, "I think so, but Kennedy and Eleanor have it, we got separated because I came with you to the hospital, and I can't get through to them on the phone.. but I've left messages."

They looked at each other, sharing concern, and then, making them both jump - the phone rang. Willow reached over and grabbed it, pulling it up to her ear. "Yes?" she said, then Cordelia watched her body visibly relax, obviously receiving news that the other two were OK.

Willow was nodding as she listened to the other person through the phone (_No doubt Kennedy_, thought Cordelia), forgetting that they couldn't see her. She finished with an "I love you too," confirming Cordelia's assumption, and put the phone down. "They said that they're fine and they'll see us back at the hotel. They got held up, which is why I couldn't get through to them earlier," she looked around, "I'll call a doctor and see if we can get out of here."

Cordelia nodded, "That would be very nice," she said, giving Willow a wan smile, "I think I've had enough of lying in hospital beds for one life time."

* * *

It was late evening by the time they got back to the hotel. Cordelia stood next to Willow in the corridor, leaning on one wall, as the witch turned the key in the door and pushed it open. The lights were all on, and when Willow called out, Kennedy came rushing out of the kitchen and flung her arms around her. After a short embrace with her girlfriend, she turned to Cordelia, "You OK?" she asked, and when Cordelia nodded, she gestured for them to come into the other room. They all moved in there, and gathered around the kitchen table, where Eleanor was pouring over The Book. She looked up and gave Cordelia a very concerned look, which was returned by a warm smile as Cordy sat down. "Find out anything?" she said, indicating the ancient text. Eleanor gave her a disappointed look and shook her head. Kennedy moved over and sat down next to her, "We only just got back as well, I called you from a pay phone after checking the messages," she said, directing the last part at Willow.

"What held you up?" asked Willow as she boiled the kettle and went about making them some hot drinks. Kennedy let out a big breath, "Well I didn't want to say anything on the phone, but we were caught. Outside the museum."

"What?" said Cordelia, this surprising news jerking her attention away from gazing at The Book.

Kennedy nodded, "Yep - by your good friends at Wolfram & Hart. Seems they look after mystical security as far as the Louvre is concerned." She tilted her head to the side and smiled, "Unfortunately for them they assumed we were just _amateur witches_, and didn't count on the fact that I could beat the crap out of them."

Willow looked over, "Which I'm sure you did." she said proudly and smiled.

Kennedy tried to look modest, "Well I did for a little while, but mostly we ran for it. Not very brave I suppose, but I didn't want to hang around for the police, or worse - a platoon of evil lawyers - to show up. We lost them after a while, but I wanted to make sure we stayed lost, so we've been spending the last couple of hours hiding."

Eleanor snorted.

Kennedy looked over at her then sighed, "In a sewer.." she admitted with a grimace.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows, then noticed that both of them had damp hair, and must have just taken showers. Kennedy looked back at Cordelia as Willow set down their drinks on the table and took her seat. "So what happened to you?" the slayer asked, taking a sip of the coffee Willow had passed her.

Cordelia pursed her lips, cradling one of her hands around her own drink. "I'm not sure. I think something attacked me. I think.." she paused and then looked around at them, "I think something knows what we're up to. Someone didn't want us to get that Book, and tried to take me down. I'm really not sure how I survived.. maybe The Powers didn't want to waste another effort bringing me back again." She shrugged, "I really don't know. But in any case, we should get started on deciphering The Book. If that holds the key to kicking some seriously evil butt, we need to know what it says, and we need to know as soon as possible."

Eleanor delicately handed it over to her. Cordelia opened up the first page. A strange mixture of tiny strokes and dots which almost resembled script covered the page. It didn't mean anything to her, and neither did any of the other pages, which were all done like this. There were no pictures. She felt different holding it however; like she was separated from the rest of them and if she just focused harder she would be able to see _something_. She felt cold, empty and.. helpless. She didn't like it, and after she'd held it for a few moments with nothing else happening she put the book back on the table. She shook her head and said, "That's pretty.. well.. weird feeling.. but I didn't get anything from it."

Willow picked it up. She looked down at the writing. She felt something rising within her, a feeling of utter power and darkness that she didn't like at all. She put the book back down and shuddered. "It makes me feel.. different. Like I'm remembering things.. I don't want to.. I don't.. I don't recognize the writing," she finished and closed her eyes, taking slow breaths. Kennedy looked at her in concern. "You OK?" she asked, putting her hand on Willow's shoulder. Willow nodded, but didn't open her eyes. "You try.." she said.

Kennedy picked up the book, opening the first page and glancing at it. She gasped. "I recognize this!" she said. The others looked at her in astonishment. "You do?" Cordelia asked incredulously, "From where? What does it say?"

Kennedy shook her head, "I.. I don't know – it's like.. it's not me that remembers it.. I.." she squinted and looked confused, "I think I've dreamt about it. Before.. I.." she stopped, as though at a loss to explain it.

"Like you're not yourself? Like you.. change.." said Willow, looking over at her. Kennedy nodded.

"I got that feeling too. And.. it's like I'm apart from myself.. looking back at us from.. somewhere away.." Cordelia added.

Kennedy was still holding the book, and she had closed her eyes in concentration, "It's.. it's.. I'm in.. in.. Tibet! Again!" Her eyes snapped back open and she put the book down on the table.

Willow said, "You've never been to Tibet!"

Kennedy shook her head. "I know."

It suddenly dawned on Cordelia. "You're a Slayer!" she said, looking at Kennedy.

Kennedy gave her a dead-pan look. "Really?" she said sarcastically, mimicking the same look Cordy had given her the day they had met.

"No I mean – don't Slayers have memories from past Slayers? Get dreams and thingies?"

Kennedy nodded slowly, and Willow said, "Of course, maybe – maybe Kennedy remembers a past Slayer who went to Tibet with.. with this book?"

Kennedy shook her head, "I don't know. It just felt like a really long time ago. I don't remember anything else.. sorry.."

"Don't be sorry," Cordelia said, "In my vision I saw something.. mountains.. I've been dreaming about them. Maybe it's the same place."

Willow sat up, "I've got an idea!" She said and got up from the table. "I have to make a call, hold on."

She left the room and came back in with the phone, leaning against the kitchen sink. She dialled a number and waited.

"Giles? Hey! .. Yes, it's Willow. How've you been? Oh? Oh. We'll that's not so nice. What? Oh yeah - Kennedy got him. Yep! He sure did. Uh? No – I didn't get my stuff back. I've just restocked again though, so no real harm done. I know. Mm.. Yes. No. Uh-huh. Rome? Oh – no – I'm in Paris. Yes, I know I said we were going to Rome, no, we're.. no. It's complicated. What? You – oooh.. Where's that? And they're the best in town? Yes she does like seafood.. Wait! No I rang up because I needed to ask you something."

She paused and sat down in her chair again, "Was there ever a Slayer that went to Tibet? .. Why do I ask?" She looked over at the others, "Just.. interested." She said in a seemingly-causal voice. She waited for a few moments, and then sat up straight, "There was? What did she do there? You – what? They, really? In Tibet? No kidding! ..Where was the temple? Right.. is it still there? Where is it? Yes I've got a pen.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Mm.. ok got it. So what happened? Yeah.. oh.. oh.. mm.. yes. Really? They did? Well that sucks. What? No I didn't.. That's.. aha.. ok. Thanks Giles! What? Am I going to go there?" She looked around at the others again, Cordelia giving her a sort of half shrug, half nod.

"To the Himalayas? Yes. As soon as possible. Tomorrow probably. I.. It's just really important Giles. No – I'll be alright. I just need to go to that temple. What? Why? Another _dimension_? Why didn't you say that before? Ehh- what? No I still need to go! It's very important!

"Yes, I'm serious! No – don't tell Buffy. Don't tell any- Just, if anyone calls or tries to look for us tell them we're unavailable. We'll be out of.. what? Astral projection? You mean I wouldn't have to.. but.. what about Kennedy? She.. ok. I'll need to go there first then? Ok. Yes, she'll be coming with me. Is.. look Giles - even if it's an emergency. I have to go. No I can't tell you why. Not yet. Just trust me. Is that, uh, everything you know? .. Ok, well thanks. No - don't get worried, I think we've proved often enough we can handle ourselves. I know you're just concerned, and I appreciate that. I'll talk to you later.. thank you. What? No, Giles. No. I have to go now. Thanks again, bye." She hung up and put down the phone. She looked at the others, who were eagerly awaiting an explanation for the sudden travel plans.

"Giles says there used to be a watcher's council in Tibet. A long time ago. They didn't manage to stay there long though, because some sort of "great evil" descended on the place and killed everybody." They all looked at her. She waved it off with a hand, "Oh, I don't think it'd still be there, we'll be fine. The elders on the council were doing some sort of spell or something that went wrong and the temple got stuck half way between our dimension and another one."

"Kind of like The Master did when he tried to free himself back in Sunnydale?" asked Cordelia, remembering Giles saying something about that, so many years before.

Willow nodded, "Just like that," she said, and then continued on, "Giles said I could get into the other dimension through astral projection, but - the rest of you wouldn't be able to do that, and somehow I think this requires a group effort."

"So – just like that we're all going to Tibet?" Kennedy asked, her eyebrows raised, and one arm resting on the table. "What about the Chinese government? All that communism stuff?"

Willow said, "They have tourists up there all the time." Then she shrugged, "We'd be alright I guess."

Eleanor, who had remained in silence (not that she had any other option, really) throughout this discussion, reached over and picked up The Book. She smiled as she held it. Unlike the others, whose reverse images of themselves were all long painful trips down memory lane, Eleanor's opposite was a positive one. As she held the book, she felt swarms of great happiness flowing through her body. She felt as though she could almost speak, almost sing; almost regain all that which she had lost. It was very strange. After a moment she put The Book down, and noticed everyone looking at her.

Eleanor looked slightly embarrassed. Cordelia squinted at her, "It doesn't have the same harrowing effect on you does it?" she asked. Eleanor shook her head. "I think you should look after it." she said, and Willow nodded in agreement. "I certainly don't want to keep it." Kennedy shuddered, "Me either." Eleanor shrugged and put the book back in her bag and covered it with her jumper like she had earlier.

Cordelia stood up, and then looking around at the three of them, spoke. "So, are we agreed? We're going to Tibet?" Willow nodded, half-smiling in anticipation, and kinking one eyebrow up slightly; Kennedy said, "That's where we're needed isn't it?"; and Eleanor looked up at her, the expression on her face saying the words she could not.

_Let's go._

* * *

Cordelia pulled her hood closer around her face, the furs on the collar whipping around in the blisteringly cold wind. The trail was steep and rocky, and as they progressed higher and higher up it, a feeling of discontent and uneasiness grew within her. It also became hard to breathe as the air around them thinned. They were almost at the end of their journey, after over three weeks trying to get here since they'd left Paris. Cordelia felt as though time was running out, and she was beginning to dread what might happen if it did. This, coupled with an unsettling feeling that she was being hollowed out from the inside, had left her feeling a little unstable. Trying to keep her thoughts on making it up to the next landing and on keeping her mind together, she watched the back of their local trail guide.

They had found it very difficult to find a guide willing to take them the full way, as every person they had talked to was convinced that the temple they were headed for was cursed. Stories abounded of all the people that had ventured forth and never returned, earning the temple the unofficial name of "Sco'chi Ba" or _Gateway of Death_. The temple's real name, that none of the locals ever used, was the _Temple of Dawa Dorje_. This name translated to be something about diamonds and light conquering darkness, which sounded a lot more promising, and back in the 80's had lead to an influx of tourist treasure hunters.

None of these tourists had ever returned from Sco'chi Ba, and the rumours all agreed that after crossing the threshold of the temple they had been sucked into hell. These tales had not fazed the girls to any great extent, apart from the fact that it had become increasingly difficult to find someone to take them there. Finally they had found an elderly guide in an isolated village in south eastern Tibet, who refused to tell them his name, but promised to take them most of the way. They had had to pay him quite a large fee in order for him to accept, though.

The four of them trudged on behind their unnamed guide, through ice, rock and snow as they continued upwards through the range of mountains. The trek had taken five days, and Cordelia was beginning to think they would never stop climbing, until their guide pulled them up short and told them he would go no further. He explained, in broken English, that all they had to do was follow the path up and around the mountain until the temple came into view. He set up camp and said he would wait for them to come back for three nights, and if they did not return after that, he would leave.

"Hopefully this won't take too long then," said Kennedy as the four of them moved on up the freezing, ice covered slope. After around two hours of winding higher up the mountain, the trail opened up to a flat landing, where, nestled in the shadow of the mountain, was the temple.

The four women stopped for a moment, the wind biting at their clothes and exposed faces and took in the view. The temple was enormous, its beautiful ornate Asian design and crumbling front entrance making it seem like something out of a tale or story. It looked incredibly old. In a way it blended into the mountain, but in another way it seemed to stand out like a beacon - so strange and disconnected from the rest of this natural landscape. The view was spectacular, as they were part way up a rather large mountain, and could clearly see the other peaks and mountains stretched out before them.

As Cordelia looked at the temple, the alien feelings of separation and emptiness that had been gently nagging at her throughout the trek increased. She could definitely understand why this place freaked the locals out. "Well," she said under her breath as they started towards the building, "Gateway of Death.. here we come."

* * *

They stood out the front of the _Dawa Dorje, _looking through the crumbled entrance into the rooms within. It looked old, quiet and creepy, but not like a portal into another dimension.

All four of them felt different, however. There was an echo, a whisper of what had affected them back in their hotel room in Paris when they had held The Book that haunted this whole mountain range. It swum around them, travelling with the wind, and entering their bodies through the very air. It made them all feel.. different. Every step they had taken towards the temple had made the feelings stronger, and now they waited.

Cordelia spoke to the others, "I don't like this.." she said, peering in through the entrance, but all within was dark and she could not see further than the crumbling doors, "I've got a bad feeling that the moment we go through-"

"These horrible feelings will get a lot more horrible?" Kennedy interrupted her, masking her emotions, her face impossible to read. Willow said nothing; she was hugging her shoulders and had her eyes closed. "Willow?" Kennedy asked, touching her arm. Willows eyes found Kennedy's, and she exchanged a terrified look with her girlfriend, "It's so.. dark."

"Well, we've got torches, hopefully it won't be too bad.." said Cordelia, but even as she spoke these words she knew that Willow was not talking about the lack of illumination. Willow said nothing more, but the others exchanged looks. They were here, finally, after almost a month of searching, plane tickets, crappy little hotels and bundles of impatience, and nobody wanted to go inside.

"Let's be smart about this," Kennedy said, steering them away from the temple to talk, "We go in there, we don't know what to expect. But we've all got these strange.. feelings that are related to this ancient book that we stole from a museum in Paris."

"Right." said Cordy, looking at the others, "So – the temple and The Book are very likely connected."

Kennedy nodded, and then continued, explaining, "When I hold the book, I get images and pictures and memories of an old slayer.. or I think maybe lots of slayers.. all.. of them. I've got all these thoughts.." she put her hand up to her head, and closed her eyes, as though trying to block them out, "..that aren't my thoughts."

She looked back at them, "Usually I'd only get these sorts of visions vaguely in my dreams.. but since we got to this mountain, they're coming to me more often, even when I'm not holding that book."

Cordelia nodded and said, "When I held it.. and just being _here_.. I feel like I'm empty, and I'm watching myself from really far away. I've got no control over things.. Like when that higher power thingy took over my body last year, I could see everything happening, and I was powerless to do anything. But they're not really connected feelings are they?"

Kennedy frowned, and looked at Willow. She looked confused, and after a moment spoke of her own feelings, "I.. I feel evil. Angry. Powerful and.. and.. dark. Like.. like I used to be.." she looked down at her boots, "I thought it was something I could sense from the temple.. but now I realise it's coming from me.."

She looked worried, "I really don't think that's a good thing at all."

Cordelia's eyes widened, "And.. if we went in there.. and these.. emotions overwhelmed us.." She looked at Willow, her question not needing to be asked.

Willow's chin trembled, "I.. I don't know if I'd be able to control it."

Kennedy put an arm around her, giving her a comforting squeeze, "What do you think this means?"

Cordelia pursed her lips, thinking. She paused and then ventured, "I think.. these feelings are sort of like.. what we used to be.." she looked at Willow again, "You said yourself that this place is half in our dimensions and half in another one.. what if in the other one.. we're not who we are now.. but who we _used_ to be.. how we used to feel.. the opposite of what we feel now.."

Kennedy raised her eyebrows, "So we all have split personalities, and they're manifesting in some ancient Tibetan temple on another plane of existence?"

Cordelia shrugged, "Well.. it's just a theory."

Kennedy sighed, "So what do we do now? We can't just give up."

"No we can't," Cordelia said, "We've come this far. Let's think about this.. what do we hope to find out by going in there?"

"Uh.. everything." Kennedy said sarcastically.

Willow, however, looked thoughtful, "Um.. what the book says? Why.. we're here? What we're supposed to do about the apocalypse or whatever that you think is coming?"

Cordelia nodded and Kennedy said, "Sounds about right."

Eleanor thought about her own feelings when she held the book, which were not at all dark or horrible - they were happy. She didn't have the horrors or the experiences in her past like the others, she was living the nightmare now. Her depressed state of mind was being replaced by the positive happy one she used to have. She swallowed, and looked at the others. She pointed to herself, then gestured she should go inside.

Cordelia regarded her for a moment, then shook her head, "I know you don't feel as awful as we do, but I don't think it's a good idea to just go wandering in there alone. What if you can't get back? I mean, this place has sucked up loads of tourists, and it's in another dimension. Plus there was an entire Watcher's Council here that got eaten by some sort of terrible dark evil.. you know.. that's never a good sign."

Eleanor sighed, and gave a half shrug.

Cordelia squinted at her, "I'll go with you. I've been brought back from the dead to come here, I have to figure out why and I have to know soon or the suspense and frustration is going to kill me.. er.. again."

She turned and looked at Willow, "I think.. maybe you shouldn't go in with us, Willow. At least until we've checked it out; found out what it does to us. I don't want you turning into the ultimate evil witch again.. that could be.. uh.. bad."

Willow looked upset and then a little angry, but after a moment she simply nodded silently.

Kennedy squeezed her shoulder again, turning her face to Cordelia's and lifting her chin proudly, "As much as I don't want to leave Willow out here alone, I think I need to go in too. I've sort of been here before, and I might be able to protect us from.. whatever might be in there."

Willow looked around at them and sighed, nodding. "I'll.. set up tents.. over there, " she pointed back at the cliff wall, "Might be shaded from the wind a bit better.."

Willow looked back at Kennedy, "And.. you guys think you'll be able to handle it ok? I mean.. all those people that came here are never returned.. you got a plan?"

Kennedy shrugged, "We go in, we look around, read the book if we can, we leave."

"And.. what if you can't leave?" Willow asked.

Kennedy looked at Eleanor, "Do you know how to pass between dimensions?"

Eleanor made a face and shrugged, _more or less_.

Willow looked a little worried, and turned and rummaged around in her bag, "It's just a matter of will power really, but take these anyway.." she said, and handed Eleanor a range of magical supplies. Eleanor took them and put them in her own bag, nodding in thanks.

"Weapons?" Kennedy asked, looking around at them.

Eleanor took out her knife. It was a bit small, and she basically only used it for magical rituals, but it might not be too bad in a fight.

Cordelia nodded at Kennedy, indicating her bag, "I've got a scythe and that axe you gave to me back in Nepal."

Kennedy said, "OK then, I think we're ready."

"If you don't come back within three hours I'm coming in after you," said Willow, her face set.

Kennedy and Willow looked at each other, and after a moment Kennedy nodded and the two embraced. Willow turned to the others, "Good luck."

Eleanor smiled at her and Cordelia said, "Thanks."

Kennedy turned away from Willow and walked towards the temple, Cordelia and Eleanor just behind her. Kennedy looked back as she passed through the entrance to the temple seeing Willow as though she were a painting. She stood with her hair blowing out from under her coat, the mountain scenery framed beautifully behind her, tears falling down her face, defeated and alone. Kennedy swallowed hard and entered the building.

* * *

Instantly the three of them felt different. The feelings that were only just noticeable on the outside of the temple now hit them with insane force and power, and they became different people.

The emotions were intense. Confusing. Like they were in a mixed up reality, where the world couldn't decide what was up or down, or where it wanted to be. Cordelia turned to the others, "You guys.. ok?" she asked, flicking her torch over and highlighting their faces, as she tried to contain her past self from consuming her. She felt very weak. Eleanor nodded at her, a smile evident on her face as she moved forward into the gloom. Kennedy tried to nod, but she was clearly having difficulty doing it. As each of them struggled with the new (or perhaps old) feelings, Cordelia tried to focus by looking around and finding out what the temple was like on the inside.

They moved their flash lights around, illuminating parts of the darkness that surrounded them. They seemed to be in a large hallway or corridor, with a really high ceiling that was crumbling in parts. The design was plain, almost the reverse of the opulent and beautiful exterior of the building. Everything seemed sort of blurry and distorted, but maybe that was just Cordelia's swimming headache or the lack of proper lighting. There were doors and passages on either side of the hall but there were no visible objects like bookshelves, tables or chairs lining this main entrance. The floor was covered in a thick layer of grey dust, and when they walked on it their shoes stirred up little clouds of powder which swirled around their ankles.

As they moved forward the three of them struggled to cope with the past images of themselves that now tried to conquer them.

* * *

Eleanor felt happy. Happy and.. powerful. As though all of the things that caused her pain were no longer important and she was living the life she used to live – full of freedom, happiness and excitement. It was like she had stepped back in time to when she had once felt like this. It was a wonderful feeling, after all that time being so alone and so unhappy. There was a part of her, somewhere deep inside that knew that this feeling was not real. It was not her. Not anymore.

Her battle to master it, to let her true feelings stay dominant, was not a whole hearted one however. She felt too attached to her old self to care if she felt that way again. She smiled, giving herself over to the past. But something else was different. She could feel something had changed.. she could almost.. she could..

She stepped forward and took her knife out of her bag, and knelt down onto the ground. She put the tip of the knife onto the floor and dragged it down in a swirling motion, forming an indent in the floor – just like a child would draw in the sand at the beach.

She looked down at the mark she had made. She had done it. She had written a letter.

The "S" stood out clearly on the floor and Eleanor gaped at it, surprise, happiness and confusion flowing through her body. Eleanor put the knife tip back in the dust and wrote more letters, until a whole word shone at her from the Temple's floor. She realised instantly what this meant, although she could hardly believe it, and turned around to look at the others. Cordelia looked very afraid, horrified even. Kennedy was breathing heavily and had one of her hands up on her forehead, as though she had a particularly painful headache. Eleanor opened her mouth.

"I.." she said, and the sound came bubbling up from her throat for the first time in three and a half years. "I.. can.." she swallowed, and tears appeared in her eyes. Cordelia stared at her, shock now adding to the haunted expression on her face.

"I can.. speak.. again," Eleanor said incredulously, and clutched her neck – as though daring to believe it was true. Her face broke out in a broad smile, and she got up off the floor, tucking the knife into the back of her pants. She laughed and jumped up in the air, "I can speak! Oh god I can speak I can-" she grinned and looked at the others, "I can speak!"

Cordelia shook her head slowly, struggling to talk herself, "How.. is.. this possible?"

Eleanor grinned at her, "I have no idea! Maybe, maybe.. the curse doesn't apply here – in this dimension! Or it's got something to do with this reversal personality thing!" she laughed and hugged herself, spinning around, never feeling so happy in her life.

Cordelia looked confused, "Curse?" she said.

Eleanor nodded, "I'm cursed. My sister, she cursed me. Right before she died." Somewhere deep inside her, saying these words hurt - memories and emotions that she usually kept bottled tightly were burning; but these true feelings barely registered on the outside, the strange universe they were in preventing her from accessing them. She remained elated, giving herself over to what she once was, what she had so wanted back.

For the other two women things could not have been more opposite. Both experiencing horrors and confusion from their pasts and both finding it extremely difficult to cope with.

Cordelia was finding it strenuous to even stand, to walk, to breathe, to speak – everything took tremendous effort. It seemed to her that there was a giant hand preventing her from connecting with her own body, and only the sliver of her true self, buried deep within her opposite, gave her a glimmer of control. She felt helpless, weak, and frightened. She had lost everything.. she was being overcome.. she would not be able to help.. to affect.. to make a difference. It pained her, and she wanted to collapse with the weight of her own body.. the strength it cost her to keep standing was almost impossible to maintain. At the moment, her will persevered, but she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep it up.

Cordelia tried to focus on Eleanor, who was standing in front of her with a distant expression of great joy on her face. Cordelia's vision blurred – her head hurt dreadfully and she was scared and confused. She felt horribly alone and utterly helpless. Eleanor looked at her, breaking out of her gaze-into-nothingness. She moved forward and took Cordelia's hand.

"It's alright Cordy. I'm here," she smiled blankly.

Cordy closed her eyes, things were becoming very weird about now. Eleanor put her arm under Cordelia's, and she felt some of the terrible weight lift slightly. She would've thanked the younger girl but she was too damn tired. In amongst her confusion she had a vague thought that it was a very good idea not to have brought Willow in with them.

* * *

Kennedy was overwhelmed. Emotions, voices and images flashed through her mind; memories that were not her own floated around her head; people she did not recognize now suddenly drew her thoughts; enemies she had never faced were everywhere; feelings that did not fit her situation surged through her body, and the walls were getting closer and closer towards her.

She couldn't handle this! She was a strong person, a leader, a warrior! Now she felt like a weak, helpless little girl. Her emotions were going crazy; she had insane urges to hit people, to cry, to run away, to be scared, to feel betrayed, to laugh, to yell in pain, to feel angry at herself for leaving Willow all alone. She felt so crowded and confused. She tried to focus, but the thoughts kept attacking her like a bad nightmare. She wasn't alone in her own body. She wanted it all to stop. She took ragged, painful gasps for air and tried desperately to remember who she really was.

Suddenly there were people all around her. All around her. Who were they? Why were they here? She could see a little boy that she didn't know rushing towards her smiling and calling her "mother".. an angry old woman was berating her for not coming home on time.. a young girl in flowing gowns held a flower up to her nose and threw her a gloating look.. a demon with blood dripping down its face came running at her with an axe held high..

Kennedy yelled and put her hands up over her head. A part of her knew this wasn't reality, this was all in her mind, but she was so overwhelmed she couldn't differentiate the two! She wasn't sure who she was, or which thoughts were hers and which thoughts belonged to the other slayers. She felt pressure like she had never known and it threatened to beat her down and consume her. She was Kennedy! She was Kennedy! She fell down onto the ground, gasping for air.

The pain had lessoned, and the thoughts, although they were still there, were not as loud – not as strong - as they had been. She remembered why they were here. She thought about the temple, and about the fate of the world. She looked up. All the other figures had gone except for a young Asian girl with a long plait down her back. She wore ornate furs and had large tattoos on each of her cheeks. She looked at Kennedy, and beckoned towards her with one of her hands. Kennedy struggled up and walked towards the girl, who backed away and turned around, still gesturing for Kennedy to come with her. Kennedy moved after her, following her down into another room and away from the others.

* * *

They heard Kennedy yell, and turned around. The slayer was waving her hands above her head, and then dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. Eleanor called out to her, but Kennedy didn't appear to have noticed. The two made slow progress towards her, Kennedy finally looking up from the floor at something directly in front of her. Her eyes widened. She got to her feet, and started off through another doorway.

"Kennedy!" yelled Eleanor, pulling Cordy around to call after her, "Kennedy where are you going?"

But Kennedy could not hear her.

Supporting Cordelia, Eleanor set off down the corridor after her, Cordelia managing to say, "Hope she knows more than we do.."

* * *

As the two shined their torches down corridors, trying to keep up with Kennedy, Eleanor told Cordy of her past, the urge the talk about things that she'd never been able to before was impossible to resist.

"My sister and me.. we were both witches.. pretty good ones too, considering our age. We buggerized around a lot really, but we had a great time. We were always together," she smiled fondly, "Always."

Cordelia shook her head, "Why did she curse you then?"

A brief flash of Eleanor's real emotions flickered in her eyes, but she told Cordelia regardless, "We had a fight. We never fought. Never. I guess.." she sighed, "It was a stupid fight. Over a little thing. I had.. told her boyfriend something she didn't want me to.. something Sandra really hadn't wanted me to tell him.. and she was very angry at me. It was a stupid thing.." she laughed wryly, but there was no humour in it, "It was all.. all spur of the moment. I know deep down she didn't mean the stuff she said.. but.. well.. she told me I shouldn't poke my nose in things that didn't concern me, and I was always opening my big mouth and telling people things that weren't any of their business."

Cordelia watched her, her expressions going haywire as she told of the reason she was usually so depressed. Eleanor continued, "And I told her that she should be more open about things, and honesty was the only way she would ever know if she was truly happy. She said happiness wasn't reality, and _I_ shouldn't be so happy, because I didn't deserve it. Then she cursed me so that I could never speak in any language or write anything down. To punish me, and so I wouldn't be so _open_."

She sighed again. "Of course I was furious at her. I was too angry to feel guilty about what I'd done, so I never got the chance to apologize or make things up with her. I remember throwing things at her, wanting to scream and swear.. not being able to.. I suppose I didn't take it too seriously really, I thought we'd calm down and she'd lift the curse and we'd forgive each other. But then.. she died in a car accident.. the next day.. and I.."

She paused, and the two of them looked up, both noticing a source of light ahead. Kennedy was standing in a doorway, holding her torch shining towards them, and leaning on the doorframe for support. She looked exhausted and pained. Cordelia could definitely relate to that sort of a feeling.

Eleanor guided Cordy over to the door, saying, "Kennedy, what's-"

Kennedy interrupted her with an exhausted shake of her head, and said in a quiet voice laced with pain, "..Book.."

"Oh.." Eleanor said, reaching into her bag and extracting it. She handed it over to Kennedy, who took it and moved into the room. She shined her torch on the opposite wall, revealing a large ornate mirror. Kennedy open-ended the first page of the book and held it up to the mirror, the other girls watching silently over her shoulder. The writing had changed. Back in the hotel in Paris the writing had appeared _incomplete_ somehow. Now the letters were fully formed – revealing what was clearly Tibetan script. Kennedy leaned toward the mirror. She nodded, and said something in Tibetan as though talking to herself. She turned the next page, her eyes reading it in the mirror. Already her expression of forced control was beginning to weaken. She flicked through the book, reading as fast as she could. Eleanor pulled Cordelia over to her other side, holding up Kennedy as well as she began to wilt under the strain of the hundreds, possibly thousands of voices in her mind.

After a few minutes Kennedy shuddered and dropped the book, the others looking at her, Cordelia asking, "What did it say?"

Kennedy shook her head, incapable of explaining now, the role of group mute seemed to have been passed on to her from Eleanor in this strange upside down universe.

Eleanor pulled her around, Cordelia saying, "I think it's time to get out of here then," but feeling, despite her pain and helplessness, that she had not done all they needed to do here, and that they were giving up. She had not had her questions answered, and was beginning to think she never would. She prayed that Kennedy would be able to tell them something when they got out.

Guided by Eleanor the three of them made their way slowly back to the main entrance. The rooms and passages twisted and turned, and Kennedy got weaker every step they took. When they finally reached the main corridor, she collapsed onto the ground.

"Kennedy!" Eleanor yelled, detaching herself from Cordelia, who leaned against the nearest wall, almost falling down herself. Eleanor leaned over Kennedy, who was shaking and twisting, but appeared unconscious. "Kennedy!" she said again, and shook the slayer. Kennedy struggled, but did not wake. Cordelia started to sink down the wall, Eleanor noticing this, and feeling as though she was running out of time, slapped Kennedy in the face. Kennedy reeled back and let out a yell, struggling stronger, but still not waking. Eleanor slapped her again.

Kennedy's eyes opened, and she saw Eleanor. She let out a cry and jumped on her, slamming the English girl back to the ground. Eleanor gasped as Kennedy started yelling at her in some strange dialect and then punched her hard in the face. Eleanor tried to pull away, struggling under the weight of the much stronger woman. Kennedy hit her again, and Eleanor felt her consciousness slipping. With all the strength she had left she tried to push Kennedy off of her. Kennedy fell backwards, weak from all the confusion, and lay exhausted on the floor. She put her hands up to her face and groaned. Eleanor rolled over, her face sore all over and an overwhelming sense of dizziness clouding her mind. She sensed blood trickling down from her nose onto her lips. She moved towards the slayer. "Kennedy.." she said, coughing up dust and bringing her hand up to her probably broken nose.

Cordelia was sitting on the floor now, gasping, feeling even more helpless - not being able to help the two of them. Frustrated and empowered with emotion, she put all her will into staying awake and trying to get up.

Kennedy turned and looked at Eleanor, her expression becoming even more confused. A glimmer of recognition flashed in her beautiful face as she looked at the witch, but then her eyes widened and she looked up at the ceiling, staring at it in horror. Eleanor looked up too, but saw nothing there. Kennedy started yelling in another language, and closed her eyes and tried to wave off an invisible enemy.

Eleanor coughed and tried to get up – her head spinning with the physical pain of Kennedy's blows. Cordelia had managed to crawl over to them, and leaned over, a strange fire in her eyes, and grabbed Kennedy's arm, "We have to leave Kennedy! You're going mad, we have to go. We have to go now. Get up Kennedy."

Kennedy closed her eyes, and put her hands up to her head and clutched her hair, managing to croak out, "I can't.. I can't.. it's too much.. I can't.."

Cordelia put her hand on Kennedy's cheek, drawing her eyes open, "Don't you give up on me now girl, we need to get out of here, and you need to come with us."

She started to cry, rocking back and forward, "It's too hard.. I can't.. I'm not me.. I can't think.. I've.."

Cordelia gripped her arm harder, forcing Kennedy to look back at her, anger and then fear and confusion flashing in her dark eyes. "What would Willow want you to do Kennedy? Would she want you to give up?"

Kennedy's mouth opened, and she stared, tears streaking down her face, "Willow?"

Cordelia nodded slowly, fighting back her own pain, "Willow. Remember Willow?"

Kennedy, "Of course.. I.. Willow.. Willow I need you.. Willow.." she looked up at the ceiling again, her eyes misted.

Cordelia moved her hand down to Kennedy's elbow, preparing to lift her. Eleanor had managed to sit up, and was trying to stand. They were all weak now, three blind mice trying to guide each other in the darkness. Eleanor moved around to Cordelia, wiping the blood from her face. Cordelia looked at Kennedy, "You need to do this, for Willow."

Kennedy nodded, "For.. Willow.. dga'po.. Willow.. zug dga'po Willow.." she tried to get up. Cordelia lifted her, and Eleanor tried to support the two of them.

The three cripples somehow managed to stand, and stagger towards the exit, the light from outside drawing them like a siren. They pressed forward, the entrance only metres from them.. but suddenly they were hit by an invisible wall that slammed them backwards onto the stone floor.

Eleanor got to her feet first, the other two lying unconscious on the floor. "No!" she yelled, moving forward and putting her hands over the barrier. This prevention of escape made her suddenly feel very trapped and shut in. Panic coursed through her unnaturally happy body, giving her emotions a confused crazy sort of feeling. They couldn't stay here, Cordelia and Kennedy would go mad before long, Kennedy already well on the way there. This was why all those people had never come back from this temple, they could enter through the doorway, but it was a one way ticket. Eleanor took a big breath. None of those people had been witches. She looked through the things that Willow had given her in her bag, and after a moment took out a bottle of bright orange powder and shook the contents all over the barrier in front of her. She took her knife out of her pants and ran the blade along each of her palms, opening up wounds from earlier spells. Blood had been her only connection to magic when she couldn't speak, and it was going to get them out of this horrible inverted hell. She flicked her left hand at the barrier, drops of blood flying through the air and smacking into the dimensional wall. Eleanor stepped backward and grabbed the two older women, neither of whom had managed to move yet, her blood touching their skin – binding them together, and dragged them towards the invisible blockade. She turned to face the barrier, and gathering all the power and strength within herself that she could, she pushed forward. The wall resisted, trying to throw her backwards, but Eleanor would not yield. Her eyes changed colour, glowing in intensity as she drew all the power she could from her surroundings, away from the barrier, and into herself. "Let.. me.. leave!" she yelled, and suddenly the wall gave way and like a stream of cold water passed over her. She stumbled forward, pulling Cordelia and Kennedy along with her. She hit the other side and fell forward onto the icy, rock covered floor. She struggled to get up, her arms still holding tight on Kennedy and Cordelia. She yelled for Willow, but no sound escaped her lips. She tried again, then the realisation that she could no longer speak hit her. Her happiness was gone too, yanked away from her so suddenly and violently she had barely even noticed. A whole new flood of depression coursed over her and she stopped moving. Her voice was gone. She was alone again. Tears sprinkled down her face and she had an insane urge to go back inside the temple. Back to where she had power. Where she had strength, where she could speak, where she was _happy_. 

But it wasn't real. It wasn't true. That wasn't her anymore, and she knew it. Bitterly, she knew it. Life had changed her. She was different now. For better or worse she was different, and artificial happiness was not what she really wanted. A part of her had remembered, back inside the temple that those feelings and her speech would be temporary, but it still burned her deeply now she no longer had either. She gathered what little energy she had left and trudged forward into the wind. She saw Willow running towards her. Willow took in the scene as she sped over towards them. Eleanor's tears streaming down her face, along with the blood that came running from her broken nose. More blood on the arms of Cordelia and.. Kennedy, who appeared so still and.. Kennedy's eyes opened, and she rolled over onto her stomach, her arm slipping from Eleanor's grip as the witch broke down onto the ground, overcome with emotions and exhaustion. Willow felt a wave of relief, seeing that Kennedy was OK. She squashed an urge to fling her arms around her, instead helping the three of them make it back to the tents she had just finished setting up.

* * *

Cordelia woke up. She was herself. She was alive, she was in control. She breathed a big sigh of relief, and looked around. Willow was in the middle of the tent patching up Eleanor's bloody nose and Kennedy sat in a corner looking off at nothing. She looked haunted.

"What happened?" asked Cordelia, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

Kennedy looked over at her. "We left the temple." she said in a hollow voice.

Cordelia put her hands up and palmed her eyes, "What a horrible place." she said slowly, trying to remember everything.

Willow finished putting the tape across Eleanor's nose. They would need to get it set at a hospital later, but for now this would stop the bleeding.

"What happened?" Cordelia asked again, lowering her hands and looking back at Kennedy.

"I.. I read The Book.." she said slowly.

"You did. I remember. How was that possible.. actually nevermind - what did it say?" Cordelia asked, moving over to her.

Kennedy took a deep breath. "It's a prophecy. Written thousands of years ago, back when the temple was built. I.. a.. a slayer was there, with the watcher's council. They all died. Were killed.. by.. some sort of evil when they accidentally got the temple stuck in between two dimensions."

"That's what Giles said, right Willow? Do you know what killed them?" Cordelia asked, moving over to her.

"Yes. It was.. some sort of.. great evil force.. that had made a rift in the diamond.."

"Diamond? What's the diamond?" Cordelia asked, lost.

"It's a metaphor for the universe. Dimensions and things.. we're here on earth, and this other force.. I think used to be here, but it got banished away into another dimension. But it was such a powerful evil that even banished as it was, it could still affect things here."

"Damn." Cordy said.

"Yeah – anyway.. this great evil over time managed to increase its influence.. make its way slowly back into our dimension," Kennedy explained "..To do this they used their influence here to set things in motion that would allow them to return.. They're trying to weaken the barriers of the diamond.. the dimensions.. causing them to break apart.. which would mean chaos in the universe. There would be no definition. No finality, no barriers between worlds. We'd all be.. one."

There was a silence following this statement.

"That's not good." Cordy said finally.

"No.. no it's not."

There was another pause, and then Cordelia asked, "You said they were banished? Who banished them before?"

"The Powers That Be. They were the only ones with the power to, and it cost them their control over earth. They moved onto another plane of existence. Another dimension as well," Kennedy said.

"Too many dimensions.. ugh.." Cordelia said, shaking her head, and then trying to put things together, "And.. and you say that this big bad evil thing is weakening the barriers.. coming back? From.. hell?"

"Yes. It's done it before too, that's why The Watcher's council here was destroyed.. they were beginning to understand what was happening and were trying to do something about it.. this.. thing.. managed to stop them before they were able to undergo the ritual."

"Ritual? What ritual?" Cordelia asked, her eyebrows flicking up into her hair line.

Kennedy explained, "They needed two vessels of power. One light, one dark. They would have to fight each other in this alternate dimension.. this would create enough force to banish the.. evil.. back to hell."

"Why would they need to fight against each other? Wouldn't one of them win out or something?"

Kennedy shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe they don't have a choice.. anyway.. the watcher's council didn't get to complete the ritual anyway.."

"Because I guess the evil stopped them?" Cordelia confirmed, "And they managed to get the temple stuck between dimensions?"

"Yes," Kennedy replied.

"Well that bodes well for us. If an entire watcher's council couldn't defeat this thing, what hope to we have?" Cordelia said sourly.

Willow interrupted her, "What is this evil thing anyway? I mean – it's evil sure.. but what is it really? There are lots of big bad evils out there. I mean we've defeated a few in the past, which one are we dealing with now?"

Kennedy shrugged, "Book didn't say."

"Wait," Cordelia said, sitting up, "This bad evil.. you said.. it has influence on earth.. and for all the time since it got banished it's been getting things in position so that it could return.. basically they've been working on an apocalypse for.. ages.."

"I guess so. Yes. Why?" Kennedy asked.

"Because all that sounds strangely familiar. I just figured out what it must be. The big evil. And.. who _they_ are. All this time.. I can't believe I didn't see it before! It all makes sense now!"

"No it doesn't! What are you talking about?" Kennedy said loudly.

Cordelia paused, and then turned to look at them all, "Wolfram and Hart. The senior partners. That's the big bad evil. It explains why I've come back, why I had to do all that stuff to help Angel in order for him to take down the Circle of the Black Thorn – the senior partners connection to earth must be growing – they're getting ready to take back what they used to have. Earth. That's what's coming through the diamond.. or through from hell or whatever. They're coming through. Now."

Willow raised an eyebrow, "Look Cordy, I know lawyers are evil and everything, but.."

Cordelia shook her head, "No it's not just the law firm, I mean – Wolfram and Hart is the partners connection on earth.. their key to an apocalypse. The Black Thorn work on getting them back in the game because they can't do it themselves.. because they're in another dimension and they can't get back yet. The law firm is like their.. _influence_ you called it. They set up a business – evil incorporate – access to all the most evil players in our dimension, and wheedle their way back through dimensions over the eons. It's brilliant."

"It is? Sounds pretty confusing to me." Kennedy said tartly.

"No, you see - they wanted Angel out of the way – the Powers champion, the one person capable of putting a fork in all their plans.. so they give him one of their offices.. they keep him busy while they bring down reality around him," she gave a small satisfied smile, "Except that that's not going to happen."

"It isn't?" Willow asked, confused.

"Oh no. While Angel takes out the Circle, we're going to close up their influence as much as we can. Banish them again. That's why we're here."

"Oh yeah, cuz banishing the baddest evil ever is going to be a piece of cake. How are we supposed to accomplish something that only the higher powers could do before?" Willow said doubtfully.

This time it was Kennedy who answered, "The vessels. The ritual. That's what we have to do."

It was Cordy's turned to be confused, "What? Those people that were supposed to fight each other?"

"Mm-hm. Vessels of light and dark. Two powerful humans fighting against each other within the temple – creating such a great amount of raw magic and energy that they can force the partners out of our dimension before they even get here. Put some strength back in the diamond. Stop the universe from breaking."

"I still don't see how two powerful humans would be enough," Cordelia said. "I mean.. two humans against the baddest evil that hell can throw at us? Don't you think the odds would be a little against them?"

Kennedy looked away, "We're not as weak as we like to think. Humans have power. This is our world, we're the ones who should be defending it. Two vessels of light and dark. Magical humans, not demons or ancient powers. Like.."

"Witches." Willow interrupted her, finally understanding.

Kennedy nodded again, still not looking back at them.

"What?" Cordelia asked, looking back and forward between them, "Who?"

Willow put her arm around Eleanor, "Us."

Eleanor was drinking some water at the time, and in her shock managed to spit it everywhere, looking up in horror. Willow sighed and patted her arm, "I'm the dark one. I have to be. Eleanor must be the light one. The temple reverses our feelings.. makes us the opposite of what we are now. Eleanor reverts to her happy self, and I revert to my evil one. We fight, we save the world."

Cordelia gaped at her.

Eleanor shook her head violently. She touched her chest and then pointed at Willow, trying to convey that Willow was a hell of a lot more powerful than she was.

Willow looked resigned, "It has to be you Eleanor. That's why you're with us. You're stronger than you think you are. I felt the power it took you to break through the dimensional barrier.. The temple didn't affect you like it affected the others, that's got to be a sign of some sort."

Cordy looked incredulous, "You.. you think?"

Kennedy sighed and looked back at them, Cordelia noticing her face was wet, "That's what the prophecy says."

Another loud silence filled the tent, until Cordelia finally asked, "So.. what happens to you then? If you go in.. and.. fight.."

Willow raised her eyebrows and smiled whimsically, "Well hopefully we won't kill each other."

"Or _get_ killed," Cordy said softly, "I mean.. this evil power.. the senior partners.. managed to take down a whole temple full of good guys when someone tried to stop them last time.. they've been working on this for thousands and thousands of years.. doing that evil plotting and planning thing.. what makes you think you'll be able to stop them now – without them blasting you into thousands of itty bitty pieces?"

Kennedy said quietly, "Because this is when it's supposed to happen.. this is the apocalypse – I think the rules will be a little different. The prophecy says if they succeed the partners get banished again. That's thousands and thousands of years before they can have another try at coming back. I mean, they will still have some influence, but not enough to matter that much."

"Of course.." Cordelia said, sitting up onto her knees, "When.. Angel takes down the Circle.. that's when we're going to have to do it. The partners will rein all hell down on him.. throwing everything they have at him.. they're influence will be weak, they'll be looking the wrong way.. it's perfect.. gives you enough time to blast them back to hell."

Willow looked up at Cordelia after she said this - fear in her eyes, "You have to go," she said.

"What?" Cordelia said, confused again.

"You have to go back to Los Angeles! You have to get them out of there! You just said that the senior partners will rein all they can down on them! Angel, Wesley, Fred, Gunn.. they'll be killed!" Willow said urgently.

Cordelia swallowed. She's been trying so hard not to think of Angel that she'd forgotten about this. She sighed and after a small pause, said sadly, "They knew what they were signing up for."

Willow shook her head, "No way. No way are we just leaving them to die. You just said it – Wolfram and Hart will throw everything they can back at them, which would be like – a whole lot of bad! Yes, it's necessary as it gives us enough time to stop them – but we can't just let them kill Angel and the others!

"We take the senior partners down - at which time they won't be able to send anything else bad after Angel because we will have stuffed them so far back into hell that they won't be able to crawl their way back for at least a million more years or whatever.. but what if they already get him? What if they take him down, and then two seconds later we defeat them? That would be really really bad, and we can't let that happen!"

Cordelia shook her head, "I don't see how we can stop it!" She felt tears brimming to her eyes. Why was she resisting going and helping them, even if it was hopeless? She wanted nothing more than to get back to America.. to save Angel.. to help the others.. but she didn't want to abandon the others here. She looked back up at Willow, "Why me? I mean, what can I do to save them against a horde of evil?"

"You are the only one who understands everything that's going on Cordy! That gives you at least some kind of advantage!"

Cordelia sniffed, "Wouldn't be a very big one. But.. I think you're right.. even if it is hopeless I should go anyway. It just.. it doesn't seem right to leave you here.."

Kennedy pursed her lips, "Some choices are already made for us, we've got no control over them, but we make our own ones too. If you feel this is right, then you have to follow your heart."

Cordelia nodded and smiled at her. Then after a moment said, "We're going to need a plan. Work out the times and things. Exactly when everything's going to happen.."

Kennedy paused and then said, almost guiltily, "The prophecy.. it says everything's going to happen tonight."

"Tonight! Oh good! We've got lots of time then! How the hell am I going to get to L.A. in the space of.. ooh a couple of hours? We're in the middle of the Himalayas! I don't see a magic carpet anywhere near here, do you?" Cordelia said in desperation.

Willow smiled slightly at her and said, "Hello? You're talking to the witch that almost destroyed the world, you really think I can't send one little person halfway across the planet so they can rescue the people they love?"

**

* * *

**

**AUTHOR NOTES:** Thanks for the reviews last chap! Just note that I don't intend to go AU at all with this fic. Cordy coming back to life isn't changing anything that happened during AtS, it's just something that I've _added. _In _CIRCLES_ the Fang Gang didn't _know _about Cordy coming back to life, because they don't know in canon. Just wanted to make that clear!

Apologies for this chapter not being up sooner, (and for it being kinda crap, not alot of action in this one, sorry) I really didn't like the second half and re-wrote it three times, so yeah.. I'm moderately happy with it now. Chapter three will be _a lot_ better though, as it's got everybody in it (yay!) and hopefully it shouldn't take as long to write, as I've already written quite a bit of it. Speaking of which:

**

* * *

**

**NEXT CHAPTER** We've caught up to "Not Fade Away" (everything has been running parallel between Your Welcome and Not Fade Away if you haven't picked up on that yet..) and Cordy gets back to L.A. to try and help Angel and the gang. Someone falls thirty feet through the air and lands on concrete, more than one building falls down, it rains a lot, Willow + Eleanor and Kennedy prepare to save the universe, Willow turns evil again, there are a few explosions, lots of demons die, everyone has aneurisms when they see Cordy's alive.. and hmm.. the final alley-way battle gets relocated indoors. Stay tuned :)

* * *

Liked it? Hated it? Want to rip my spleen out with a fork? Any other thoughts? **Please review! **


	3. CITY of CHAMPIONS

**CIRCLES**

CHAPTER THREE: CITY OF CHAMPIONS

**

* * *

**

**NOT SO BRIEF SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS 1 & 2 (skip if you read them):** Cordy comes back to life in the home of an English witch called Eleanor, (in England) five days after her death in LA. Eleanor, who was cursed by her dead sister and thus can't speak words out loud or write them down, helps Cordy to figure out why she's been sent back. Cordy gets a once-off vision, that's very vague, but leads her to Paris. Eleanor goes with her. (I tried not to make Eleanor an OC-Mary-Sue because mary-sues make me want to violently throw up – but I needed another powerful witch, and I needed to put her in the way I've plotted the story.) They realise they need to steal a book from a famous museum, which will help them defeat the senior partners. Cordy can't tell Angel she's back because she knows he needs to do his wacky pretending-to-suck-up-to-the-black-thorn thing. Cordy and Eleanor bump into Willow and Kennedy, who are holidaying in Paris before going off to see Buffy in Rome. After much "holy french toast you're not dead" and planning and drama the four of them manage to steal this book from the museum. Booya. Anyway, they try and figure out how to read the book, which makes them all feel weird when they hold it – like they're not themselves. It's actually connected to a temple in Tibet where there, many years before, was an old Watchers Council. So the four of them trudge off to the himalayas. Whee. So yes, this temple in Tibet is split across two dimensions, and if a person were to enter the other dimension they would revert to a previous incarnation of themselves. For Cordy she starts to lose control of her body like she did back when she was evil!Cordy and jasmine took over her; for Eleanor she's happy and she can speak (she's usually v. depressed and quite mute); for Kennedy she starts to go nuts and gets invaded by the minds of other slayers; and Willow turns evil. Anyway, they sort of realise this before they go into the temple, so Willow decides not to go in with them, lest she go psycho again. After much angst and craziness (kennedy and cordy don't go well in the temple, what with the nuts+no control things), they find out that Willow and Eleanor have to go into the temple and fight each other, as opposites of power (good and evil) and thus, create a force that can boot the Wolfram and Hart senior partners out of their dimension. Confusing and rediculous sounding when it's summerized, but oh well – it makes sense when you read the chapters. Heh. Anyway, Willow tells Cordy she better get her butt back to LA, as this apocalyptic fun is going doing today, and if Angel and the others are caught in the cross fire, they're likely to die (as hinted at with alley full of baddies in NFA), and that would be very bad. So Willow sends Cordy back to LA, as Kennedy wants to stay with Willow, and Eleanor and Willow get ready to do their crazy battle to save the universe thing. Enter chapter three!

_

* * *

_

_Champions are made from something they have deep inside them – a desire, a dream, a vision. They have to have a last-minute stamina, they have to be a little faster, they have to have the skill and the will. But the will must be stronger than the skill. _

– _Muhammad Ali_

* * *

Cordelia slammed into the floor. Her head hurt. Again. She groaned - she was getting tired of picking herself up off of floors and feeling as though someone had bashed her over the head with a giant hammer. She blinked a few times and surveyed her surroundings. She was in the middle of the main lobby of the Hyperion Hotel. 

Willow had sent her halfway across the world and she'd ended up in exactly the place she was supposed to. Damn that witch was good.

She staggered to her feet and looked around. The place was sparkling. Spotless. That was very strange. Angel had probably sent someone from Wolfram and Hart over to clean up after they'd moved out. For some reason that thought filled Cordelia with anger.

Cordelia stepped into the office, pushing her bag off of her back and removing her jacket and thick undershirt. She had just been in the freezing cold of the Himalayas, and now she was back in sunny California – she didn't need to be dressed like a beached whale. She took out a lighter much more fashionable jacket and a pair of jeans from her bag and then changed into them.

When she had changed her clothes she rummaged around in her bag. She got out her scythe (which was small and portable) and tied it to her pants, taking her axe out and holding it in her hands. It was a bit too big to be dangling from her waist. She moved over to the hotel's weapons locker. It was empty. She had expected this, but it was irritating none the less. She walked over to the front doors and unlocking and opening them. She looked back at the hotel as she passed into the courtyard. It looked the same as ever – but Cordelia wondered if she would ever see it again. She sighed and turned away.

It was already dark outside, and Cordelia wasn't sure she had a lot of time. Everything was going down today, and she needed to get to the others before it was too late. She stepped out onto the street and took off at a run towards Wolfram and Hart.

* * *

Kennedy held Willow. She wrapped her arms around her and buried her face in her hair, searching for support and reassurance in the embrace of the woman she loved. Kennedy did not cry. She had already done enough crying. She whispered into Willow's ear as she held her, "You remember last year.. right before you made me a slayer.. and I said to you.. you're going to make it through.. no matter how dark it gets.. because you're.. my way." 

"I remember," Willow replied softly.

Kennedy paused, forcing herself not to choke up. Then she said, "..that still holds you know."

Willow held her tighter, "I know."

* * *

Eleanor stood away from the couple, watching the clouds roll past in the sky. She thought about the last things Cordelia had said to her before leaving. 

"_There's a strong person somewhere inside you Eleanor, and I don't mean what we saw in the temple.. that person you used to be – I mean what you can become. You don't need to hide behind everything that's happened to you, because you're better than that."_

Eleanor sighed. She wasn't strong. These people could put all there trust and hope in her and it wouldn't count for anything, because Eleanor knew the truth. She was weak, and she was only doing this because there was nothing else left for her. Not anymore.

"_I'm really proud of you. For everything you're doing."_

She thought of Cordelia's sacrifice compared to her own. She was so strong and so beautiful. Going to save the people she loved. Eleanor had only ever loved her sister. And she was gone. Why did she care what happened to the world if there was no one left to care about? She thought about dying, and whether she cared if she did or not. She couldn't decide.

"_I'll see you again."_

Eleanor wondered if Cordelia had meant in this life or the next, and if she would ever really know for sure.

* * *

Cordelia stopped on the street out the front of Wolfram and Hart. There was something big going on - the building was shaking madly and making awful rumbling noises – it looked as though it was about to come down. She hoped to god that Angel and the others were already out of there. 

Her gut clenched.. she needed to know for sure. She started up to towards the front door, looking up as the law firm continued to shake as though it was in the middle of a particularly ferocious earthquake.

Cordelia stopped in front of the front doors, wondering if it really was a good idea to go inside. How else was she going to find them? The building gave a particularly loud grinding noise and Cordy stepped back. She looked up towards the outside of the building just as the doors opened and someone ran full pelt into her.

She was winded and fell back onto the ground, the other person on top of her. She struggled blindly with them for a few moments, trying to recover and figure out what had happened.

The other person pulled off of her, and sat back onto the ground, gasping. He looked at her, his mouth dropping open. He backed away, shaking his head. "It.. it can't be.." He said incredulously.

Cordelia stared at him, trying to recover her breath. This was the last person she had expected to see here. "Connor?" she said slowly.

Connor shook his head again, his brown eyes wide in shock, "You're dead! He told me you were dead. It can't be you."

"He.. Angel? Where is he?" Cordelia asked urgently. She noticed that he had blood alover his face and had a hand on his chest, as though he had just been in a fight.

"He was.. inside.. I.." Connor turned and looked back at the building just as it gave way and began to fall in on itself, the doors shattering and glass flying in all directions as it imploded.

Connor leapt to his feet and grabbed Cordelia, pulling her away from Wolfram and Hart as the building collapsed. They reached the street coughing and panting with exhaustion, debris and dust flying through the air around them.

Connor looked back at the ruined law firm, his eyes wide, "Angel.." he said slowly. Then he turned back to Cordy, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "You're dead," he said accusingly. "He told me just today, that you died in your coma, and I.. I.." he stared at her, emotion drawing up in his eyes.

"I thought you were dead.." he said, his voice cracking.

"I was," said Cordelia softly, putting her hand on his shoulder, "But I'm back now. I don't have time to explain everything, but we have to get to Angel.. and.. wait.. I thought you didn't remember.."

Connor shook his head, "No I got my memories back."

Cordelia looked down at the floor, "Oh.. you.. umm.. back.. when all that.."

Connor grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the smoking pile of rubble, "We'll talk later, we need to get you out of here, you have no idea what's going on."

Cordelia resisted, holding her ground, "Yes I do. I need to find Angel and the others."

"He.." Connor said, looking back at the ruin behind them, watching the dust swirl around in the air. "He was inside.. I don't know if he got out."

Cordelia looked at the destroyed building, swallowing, after a moment she said, "He got out."

"How do you know?" asked Connor.

"I just do," she said quietly. She stepped away, "Where would he go now.. where.." she said to herself, looking around.. trying to think..

She turned back to Connor. "Do you know where he would've gone?"

Connor shook his head, still clearly confused, "Maybe back to the hotel? I'm not sure.."

"Back to the hotel. Right." Cordelia said and started to head back there, feeling the first drops of rain falling on her face.

Connor ran after her, "Wait – what's going on?" he yelled as he caught up.

"You have to go home Connor, I'm not going to let you get yourself killed." Cordelia said resolutely.

"That's not your decision to make Cordy," Connor said bluntly as they turned down a street "I'm not the same person I was before." The rain was getting stronger, and it slammed down around them as they ran.

"Connor - Angel's sacrificed everything he has because of you. _For_ you. So you can live through this. You have to go home. Where you're safe." Cordelia reached down and grabbed his hand, looking into his eyes as they ran, sensing his concern. "I'm not going to let him die Connor. Trust me."

Connor looked pained, and turned his head away, "I.."

His words were interrupted by a horrible screeching noise from above them and they both stopped and looked up. A dirty great dragon passed through the sky and headed down the next street, breathing fire and bellowing loudly.

"Holy shit!" Connor said, watching it go.

Cordelia also followed the creature's progress with her eyes, "I have to go now Connor," she looked back at him, and then pulled him into a hug. "Be safe," she said softly, letting go and turning away. "And go home!" she yelled back over her shoulder as she set off again down another street, following the dragon.

* * *

Connor stood there, the rain drenching his clothes, watching her leave him. Was this the end? There was a dragon in the middle of the city, Cordelia had come back from the dead and the world's most evil law firm had just sank into the ground.. something big was definitely going on. Was this an apocalypse? Were they winning or losing? Connor swore under his breath, he needed to know more! He thought about what Angel had said to him, only minutes before. 

"_They'll destroy you!"_

"_As long as you're OK, they can't. Go!"_

Connor felt tears sliding down his face, mingling with the rain. He was torn, unsure now of what to do with himself. They all wanted him to be safe, to be with his family, to go home. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to die.

..but how could he just go home after all this?

* * *

Eleanor looked back at Kennedy and Willow. They stood together on the steps of the temple - serious and resigned. Eleanor turned her head and stepped through the barrier into the other dimension. 

They had decided that she would go in first, set things up and wait for Willow. Once the other woman entered there was no telling what might happen, so they felt it best for Eleanor to go first. Eleanor moved forward down the hallway, again feeling the alien feelings of happiness and power she had had last time, only now she could control them better. She walked down the dust covered stone hallway, passing the word she had written on the ground hours earlier.

_SORRY_

She looked at the letters indented in the dust as she passed. The first word she had written in over three years.

Eleanor sighed and turned away, continuing down the corridor. She needed to prepare the things that Kennedy said they would need to in order for her and Willow to defeat the senior partners. To channel their power combined into the dimensional layers of the whole universe and fight back an enemy stronger than anything she could imagine.

"Sure, piece of cake," she muttered under her breath, sitting down in the dust at the end of the great hall. She drew a circle around herself with her knife and put down charms and objects she had taken in with her. She tinkered around with her spell for a few minutes and then sat back, waiting.

* * *

Angel stepped forward, swinging his sword and decapitating the first of the demon horde as they charged. He chopped and sliced, enemies falling around him - but his eyes kept flicking up to the dragon, which was swooping in, ready to flame. Spike came charging in behind him, throwing himself into the pack, and he felt Illyria move past his left arm, punching a demon angrily in the stomach in an attempt to relieve her grief. 

Angel hacked off the head of another foe, turning to see how Gunn was doing. Gunn was fighting one handed, letting his axe smash into his victims as they came at him, rather than moving forward to meet them.

Angel looked up again, and yelled for the others to get out of the way as the dragon ducked down and passed through the centre of the alley. They pressed themselves against the buildings on either side as fire went billowing down between them. That was close. Angel turned to watch the dragon fly up into the sky again, which was a stupid move as it left him open to attack.

He was punched in the face by a particularly large demony.. monster.. thing.. that roared at him as he fell back against the alley wall. Angel turned to meet it, catching a glimpse of Illyria kicking in the skull of a Vahrall demon and Spike fighting hand to hand with something red and slimy that was attacking him with a dirty great black sword.

Angel heard someone calling his name. He ran forward at the large demon thing that had punched him and tried to cut at it with his sword. The thing grabbed his weapon, blocking the blow and sending him reeling a few steps backward. He heard someone call his name again. He ducked as the thing threw his sword back at him, missing his head by only a few inches. He turned and reached for the sword, still hearing his name being called from somewhere. He looked around as he got up, trying to find the person who was calling him.

The other three appeared locked in battle, none of them looking his way, none of them calling his name. He turned back to the large monstrosity he had been fighting and prepared to have another shot at killing it, when the thing stopped advancing towards him. The beast's three eyes bulged out in horror and, arms flailing, it let out a piercing scream and began to fall forwards. Angel backed away just in time as the thing almost collapsed on top of him. He looked up, seeing a large axe embedded in the spine of the demon.

Someone was standing on the beast's back, with their hands holding the shaft of the axe, their face masked by a mass of brown hair - clearly the one who had killed it. The person pulled out the axe and flicked their hair up, revealing their identity. Angel stopped. He stared, at first thinking he had to have been hallucinating, as the person jumped off the back of the demon and ran over to him.

Cordelia.

He looked at her for a few moments, not noticing the battle around him or the dragon coming around for another pass. It couldn't be her. She was dead.

Cordelia ran up to him and kissed him soundly on the lips.

* * *

Willow moved towards the entrance, her hand still entwined with Kennedy's. She did not want to do this. She did not have a choice. 

Life was cruel and unfair. Everything she had fought to stop becoming.. was now what the world needed in order to survive. To win. Willow sighed - life was strange and confusing, and at most times annoyingly ironic.

Things that should be clear were foggy and what ought to be confusing was not always. Things were usually much too serious. Willow hated life being serious. Life should be more like a gobstopper. Cold, hard and boring on the outside, but once you peel back a few layers - soft, gooey and fun.

In reality it was the other way around. Everything seeming happy, fun and easy until you get right down to the heart of it all where things get too serious and much too real.

Sometimes Willow hated being a hero.

She sighed again and let go of Kennedy's hand, stepping forward into hell.

* * *

It was a quick, hurried kiss – but it brought Angel out of his daze. 

He pulled back from her, "What.." he said, staring at her utterly confused.

Cordelia shook her head, "No time to explain, we have to leave."

She grabbed his arm and looked around for the others. She yelled, "GUNN!" and he looked up from battling another enemy, his face covered in blood and his body bent double, clearly suffering from his injuries. He gaped at her. "We have to go!" She yelled, and saw Spike and.. what looked like Fred with bad hair and a leather cat suit on.. hacking their way towards them.

Spike looked strangely at Cordelia for a few moments, then as he beat back another demon, he yelled, "Can't! We gotta.. gotta stay and fight! We only just started!"

Cordelia shook her head as the five of them tried to get to each other through the crush of evil opponents. "There'll be plenty of time to fight more later! Now trust me for a moment, this battle's out of your hands, you've done all you can."

"No. He's right. We have to stay and fight," said Angel from behind her, she turned around to look at him. He looked even more pale than usual, but had seemed to mostly recover from his shock at seeing her.

"I wish to do more violence!" said the blue haired Fred. Cordelia gave her a strange look, and tried desperately not to think about Wesley and Lorne, who didn't appear to be here.

Cordy took a deep breath as she turned around and stabbed a purple and white scaly demon in the chest, yelling, "You can do that later! If we don't get out of here now you won't be able to do any more violence ever again, because you'll all be dead. So bottle up your pride and your blood lusts, because I've _been_ dead and I've come back just so I could save you people! We have to leave!" They all looked at her, "Right now!" she yelled.

"But-" said Gunn having finally reached them, clutching his side.

"NOW!" yelled Cordelia, putting her arm around him and helping him to move.

"Where!" roared Spike, using a huge rusty black sword to cut the head off a Nezzla demon with a very powerful blow, "In case you hadn't noticed hell's taking a vacation, and we're the new Hawaii!"

Cordelia had noticed. She looked around and pointed back down the side alley, "South!" She yelled at them, "Back to the hotel – easier to defend from!"

"Defend! What the hell's the good of defending?" Spike called back angrily.

Cordelia couldn't be bothered answering him and tried to push Gunn forward, but Angel came over and took him from her. Gunn began to protest, but Angel had clearly taken in Cordelia's words and was leading them back down the alley towards the hotel.

Spike groaned and then set off after them, "Two minutes of brawling and we get _rescued_. Where's the fun in that?"

Fred-that-was-not-Fred headed to the front of the group and began smashing her way through her enemies, sending them flying. She was a blur of blue in amongst the red of defeated foes, driven by some insane force that Cordelia did not yet understand. Some strange stuff had clearly happened while she had been away.

She looked around. There were so many demons.. she wasn't sure how they were going to make it, but a bubble of pride, hope and the thought that Willow and Eleanor would soon be sending all this lot back to where they came from sustained her. She ploughed on forward, killing anything she could, wounding what she couldn't.

* * *

Eleanor looked up. Willow stood in the doorway down the other end of the hall, her face hidden in shadow. Eleanor thought about calling out to her - then thought better of it. Willow moved forward towards her. 

Eleanor suddenly felt terrified. Why the hell was she doing this? What did she care if the whole world became a demon playground! She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She could feel Willow's power.. even with the distance between them – and it was overwhelmingly intimidating.

The other witch continued at a steady walk down the corridor towards her. Eleanor swallowed and stood up.

Willow stopped in front of her. She looked different. A lot different.

She looked evil.

* * *

The horde just kept coming. They were a third of the way down the side alley heading back to the hotel when Spike went down. He let out a yell of pain as a great big sword went sliding through his back and out through his chest. Cordelia fought over to him, but the blue-Fred was already there. She had taken down his assailant and was preparing to extract the weapon. 

"Uh, no, blue, I'm fine. Really, blue. Just leave it, I'll be alright, I've had a lot worse please.. don't.." He said desperately, but she completely ignored him and ripped out the sword out in one swift movement. Spike let out another yell, panting and falling over. He picked himself up, hand on his chest, his eyes closed. He then turned to look at her, opening his eyes.

"..Ow?" He said in a pained, accusing voice - but she simply stared at him.

"Illyria! Spike! Keep moving!" Angel yelled back at them, and they turned and continued down the alley, Cordelia following them. Spike was grumbling angrily as the three fought their way back through the crowds to Gunn and Angel.

"Easy for him to say, I don't see him having a sword yanked out of his gut by an ancient ego ridden she-demon on the rampage!" he said bitterly, spitting out some blood as they ran. This sentence confused Cordelia, but she didn't have time to ask him to elaborate.

She-demon? Illyria? She looked at the blue-Fred. She could clearly see now that there were huge differences between the woman she had known and the person standing before her now, killing without remorse or expression. She felt a lurch in her stomach that was not inflicted by a physical injury.

What had happened to Fred?

Suddenly there was a low horn like sound from ahead of them, Cordelia thinking wildly that this could not be a good thing, stopped in her tracks. Two white lights came shining into the alley - heading straight toward them. Cordy peered at the newcomer as it crashed through the demons ahead of them, only at the last moment realising that it wasn't some new horror at all – and that it was a car. An SUV. The car skidded to a stop in front of them, smashing into a couple more demons with a disgusting crunching noise. The passenger door swung open.

Connor sat in the driver's seat, his arm outstretched towards them as he held the door wide.

"Get in!" he yelled.

"Connor! What the hell are you doing here?" yelled Angel, punching a Strom demon in the face and guiding Gunn over towards the car.

"Rescuing you! What does it look like?" Connor yelled back as the two of them got in the back of the car.

Angel looked skyward in exasperation, "Why the hell is everyone trying to rescue us? Are we that helpless? I mean, do I have a sign or something around my neck that says '_rescue me_' in neon paint?" He looked back at his son, saying angrily, "I told you to go home Connor!"

Cordelia climbed into the front, looking up at the young man, "So did I!" she said accusingly, strapping herself in and closing the door.

Connor looked back and forward between them. "What was I supposed to do? Go home and be a good little boy while the rest of you are out here fighting for your lives?" he protested.

"Yes!" said Angel and Cordelia at the same time.

Connor set his expression, "Look - I made a choice. I'm _not_ a little boy. This is where I'm needed right now, so don't tell me I did the wrong thing, because it wasn't up to either of you."

Cordy gaped at him; he certainly had changed.

Angel was clearly trying to think of something more to say as Spike jumped in the back seat next to him and Gunn, fending off a demon with his legs. He gave it a final sharp kick and slammed the door.

He looked around at the others. "We moving or what?" he asked.

Angel ripped his eyes away from Connor and looked at him. "Where's Illyria?" he asked, just as she opened the door next to him.

Illyria did not get in the car though. Instead she leaned forward, picked up Angel's sword, ignoring his cry of "Hey!" and shut the door again. She jumped up onto the roof of the SVU and prepared to defend them.

Connor put the car in reverse, hoping the god-king could hold her own on top of his car. They drove back down the alley, hearing and seeing various things bump into the sides of the car as they went. They were almost at the hotel when suddenly the SUV smashed into something. There was a horrible lurch as something reached down and with huge vicious claws ripped the back of the car off. Connor gulped, looking back over his shoulder and saying, "My parents are gunna kill me.." as the whole rear end of the vehicle was torn away.

Gunn was almost unconscious, and Cordelia had moved into the back to tend to him, which in hindsight, as she looked up and saw the giant thirty foot monster that had just mutilated Connor's car, was probably not the smartest move. Illyria had leapt from the roof onto the giant's clawed hand, and was now climbing up its arm. She had reached its shoulder, the great creature only just realising she was there and starting to try and claw her. It was slow and dumb however, and Illyria was agile and fast. She hacked away at the beast's neck with Angel's sword as it desperately tried to swat her off.

She plunged the sword deep into its neck and it let out a mighty bellow, shaking the houses and the ground around them. Finally one of the creatures claws managed to dislodge its attacker, slicing a deep wound across Illyria's back. She let out a soft yell, and then fell from its shoulder all the way down to the hard concrete floor beneath. There she lay still.

Spike swore loudly and rushed out the empty back of the car over to her. He gently picked up her body, as the beast above them screamed and roared in pain, Angel's sword still embedded deep in its neck. Spike returned with Illyria and Connor fired up the car again, pushing it past the great feet of the dying beast as fast as they could back to the hotel.

* * *

Willow closed her eyes and her let her face drop downward, her red hair falling down around her. 

"Let's do this," she said and brought her hands up on either side of her body, both glowing with blue energy.

Eleanor breathed deeply and lifted her own hands. "You first," she said with a courage she couldn't believe she had mustered. She spread her fingers, drawing in power from around her.

Willow lifted her head, her eyes black and glowing, and a smile on her face, "As you wish."

* * *

Finally they reached the hotel, and Connor parked the car and they all got out. Angel hoisted Gunn's arm over his shoulder and the two limped up the front steps into the building. Spike had Illyria in his arms, and was rushing as fast as he could towards the doors, Cordelia and Connor close behind him. 

The group entered the hotel and rushed forward into the lobby, Cordelia locking the door behind them. The hordes of evil wouldn't give them breathing time, but they might be able to hold up for a few moments before the battle moved in here.

Angel had lowered Gunn gently down onto the floor over by a wall and Spike was putting Illyria down on the pouf in the middle of the room. She stirred, sending Spike reeling back in shock, "I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed.

Illyria coughed, and said weakly, "I have been dead a long time, flesh wounds mean nothing to me now."

Spike raised an eyebrow, "Er.. right. Can you fight some more?"

Illyria struggled to sit up, saying in normal tones, "If it will lesson the pain."

Spike tilted his head towards her, "I thought you said the wounds meant nothing?"

Illyria looked away, "Physical pain is not what I speak of."

Spike gave a small nod, and said "Oh.."

Connor had removed his shirt and was sitting next to Gunn with it pressed into the dark warrior's bloody wound. Gunn was breathing raggedly, but he seemed to still have some strength, managing to stay sitting up. Cordelia went into the office and brought out her bag taking it over to the boys. Connor was talking to Gunn in low tones as he gripped his shoulder and applied pressure to the injury.

"I've got some bandages in here somewhere," Cordelia said, squatting down next to them and giving the bag to Connor. He nodded in thanks and rummaged around in the bag, retracting a wide white bandage. Cordelia stood up and backed away as Connor wrapped the bandage around Gunn's stomach, giving them some room. She turned and found Angel watched her. He looked directly at her for the first time since she had kissed him, disbelief returning to his expression.

"Cordy.." he said after a moment, "How.. can.. is it really you?"

Cordelia smiled softy. "It's really me." she said.

"But you died.. you.. you're gone.." he said, moving over to her.

Cordelia put her hand on his cheek, "I'm sorry. I had to.. be away for everything to work out."

He shook his head, confused, "For.. for what to work out?"

There was a crashing sound as something smashed into the doors out the front. The door was locked but that wouldn't hold them out for more than a few seconds.

Cordelia looked back at Angel, saying hurriedly, "I can't explain everything, but just understand that there's something else going on right now.. and all we have to do is just hold out for a little while longer.. and all this will be over."

"What?" Angel asked incredulously.

Cordelia looked back at the door, which was being pounded at from the other side.

"Looks like our party's about to be gatecrashed!" yelled Spike from the middle of the room, Illyria stooped beside him, her face hidden by her hair.

Connor looked up from patching up Gunn, who tried to get up, reaching over for his axe on the floor next to him. Connor made movements to prevent him from rising, but Gunn was adamant. "I'm not going to die sitting down," he said firmly, using the wall to help himself up.

Angel looked back at Cordelia, who said urgently, "Angel, everything you've done up until this point, _what I've helped you to achieve - _the vision, the Circle of the Black Thorn, my death, everything - it has all helped to set things in motion to defeat the senior partners! Not just hurt them - beat them," he stared at her, his mouth dropping open. Cordy sighed and looked back at the door, "Look I can't explain it all now, but there's another battle that's going on away from here as we speak that decides the fate of everything that happens now! This is out of our control!"

"Oh well that's comforting," Spike said, coming up to stand next to them, he handed Angel his black sword. "I'm in the mood for hand to hand," he explained after Angel gave him a questioning look. Then he looked around, "So are we going to stand around talking all day, or am I going to get to kill some more things?"

There was a large crashing noise and the front wall shook violently. They looked at the glass door at the front of the building, but all outside was obscured in shadow. Angel tilted his head at Spike, grimacing, "I think it's your lucky day."

* * *

Eleanor went sailing through the air towards the back of the hall, Willow's blue fireballs hitting her square in the chest and sending her flying. She smacked into the stone wall hard, groaning and falling forward onto the ground. 

"You're going to have to do better than that," Willow said softly, approaching her – walking through her protection circle and stepping on one of the charms, crushing it with her shoe. She looked down at the floor. "What a waste of time," she shook her head and looked back at Eleanor, "Now, if we are going to save the universe, you better pick yourself up and show me a little of that ultimate good you're supposed to be empowered with."

Eleanor began to rise, the pain in her stomach screaming at her to stay on the floor. She tried as best she could to ignore it.

Willow stood over her now, looking down. "Maybe the universe is doomed," she sniffed, "Pity."

Willow raised her hand, the veins in her arms turning black and throbbing as magic coursed through her body. She turned her dark eyes up to the ceiling and began to chant something.

Eleanor gripped the other woman's wrist. Willow looked back down at her. Eleanor's eyes had also changed colour and she had a trickle of blood running down from her nose again.

Willow tried to pull back from her grip, but Eleanor was already doing something. Willow's black arm was now turning white as Eleanor's spell tried to take effect.

"Oh I don't think so," said Willow, reaching out with her other hand.

Eleanor took that hand too, and the two of them stood with their hands locked together, battling wills and powers.

"So there is something inside that shell," said Willow angrily, taking in a deep breath, "let's see if it's enough.."

Willow flicked her hair back, dark power coursing through her body, all focused towards Eleanor. Her hair turned black in an instant, and she began to glow. The English witch struggled against her power, discovering a source of her own – deep within that had been waiting all these years to be unleashed. She just needed to open the bottle.

Willow dug her fingers into Eleanor's flesh, causing a trickle of blood down their combined hands. Willow threw waves of raw magic at Eleanor, trying to separate them. Eleanor felt the hot blood flowing down her hand and onto her arm.

She smiled weakly, "I was _so_ hoping you would do that."

* * *

Cordelia made a face and looked down at her watch, "They're late.." she said quietly. Angel threw her a puzzled look as she swore violently and then said, "They were supposed to have fixed the diamond by now!" as though that explained everything. 

"Who's they!" Angel demanded at the same time Spike yelled, "What the bloody hell's the diamond?"

"It's-"

BOOM

Her explanation was interrupted by the entire front door and parts of the surrounding wall blasting inwards, sending rubble and glass all over the lobby. Everyone hit the deck, which was just as well, as following the explosion there was a great burst of flame that entered in through the gap in the wall and engulfed the air. The fire billowed out across the room for a few seconds as everyone lay on the floor with their arms over their heads, praying for the best. After the flame had passed, Cordelia lifted her head up to see what had happened.

Where the wall used to be now hovered the head of a gigantic green dragon, its snake-like neck leading out through the gap in the wall, not big enough to emit its whole body. It was covered in sparkling emerald scales and had its mouth open, revealing a set of very large and very pointy teeth.

Angel leapt to his feet and ran at the beast, coming at it from the side, raising the great black sword Spike had given him and bringing it down on the dragon's well armoured neck. The dragon roared in pain as the blade cut through its scales and into its flesh, sending another torrent of fire into the hotel. Cordy covered her face with her arms again, feeling the heat of the flames soar over her head. When she felt the fire recede she chanced another look up. Angel was still sawing into the dragon's neck, the beast screaming and thrashing around in pain. It had caught itself in the wall, however, and was now powerless to stop the vampire's attack. The beast let out one last blood curdling screech as Angel delivered the final blow, splitting the dragon's neck in half and sending its head crashing to the floor. Angel stood for a few moments, his sword hovering in the air, a slightly surprised expression on his face.

"Huh," he said as he looked down at the defeated beast.

Spike picked himself up and looked across the room at his grandsire, who was covered head to toe in dragon blood, "Was that as rewarding as you'd hoped?" he asked.

Angel frowned, "Actually not really."

Spike shook his head in disgust, looking back at the rubble and the dead dragon, then he paused, "..Well don't hang up your hat up yet, cuz that was just the welcoming committee."

The rest of them turned to look out into the garden. The mass of demons had caught up to them, and were climbing over the dragon's back end and up the stairs, rushing towards the great hole in the Hyperion Hotel's front entrance.

There was no time for a plan or strategy, as the horde descended upon them once more. Spike managed to yell, above the roar of death and battle, "How long do you reckon we can hold this lot off for?"

Cordelia was fighting right next to her champion and saw him give his reply. His face was still drenched in blood from the dragon, but there was a new fire burning in his eyes, Cordelia and Connor's presence igniting something within him that he had lost up until then. Hope.

Angel called back at Spike across the crunch of bodies, his voice filled with determination,

"As long as it takes."

* * *

The blood connected them, and Eleanor's power flooded to the surface. She changed in an instant. She was not Willow's equal, she could never be. Willow was the ultimate witch, there would never be another like her – she was it. 

But now they were connected, Eleanor felt the bond between them as her blood bound them, and smiled. This would do it. They could do it now. Eleanor's hair turned white.

Willow's expression grew painful, Eleanor realising that there was the real person within all the layers of evil that was still struggling to control her. The two of them fused into the temple, their power fighting and combining at the same time. Everything merged, good, evil, past, present. Dimensions ripped apart for a moment as the two of them stood in the centre of the temple, throwing their power and their lives out of their bodies and into the universe. Stabilizing or destroying it – neither could tell.

"I'm sorry," said Eleanor as the two vessels let out one final burst of magical power and the world came down around them.

* * *

Kennedy watched in awe as a bolt of red light burst out of the temple. The building shuddered and shook as further bolts came shooting out of it – blasting through the temple's outer layers and sending bits of stone flying into the air. 

They were doing it. They were fighting.

Kennedy felt helpless, standing here watching the building fall apart as a battle she could not help with was raged inside.

* * *

Angel and Spike were fighting back to back in the middle of the lobby. 

"Really wish I hadn't given you that sword about now," Spike said bitterly before moving forward and punching a winged demon sharply in the jaw.

"Your loss," Angel said, sliding the black blade into the gut of another foe, "Where did you get it anyway?"

"Took it off of some great slimy demon back in the alley," Spike replied, punching his opponent in the face again. "Didn't recognize the thing. Why?"

Angel turned around and swung the weapon through the air - cutting the head off Spike's winged enemy in one, clean stroke. Angel smiled at him, "No reason. It's just really good."

Spike glared at him and moved away, battling some other opponents and muttering to himself.

* * *

Dimensions split apart. The world shuddered. 

The roof of the temple collapsed above Willow and Eleanor.. but it was already too late.

* * *

Kennedy watched as the building exploded in a blaze of red light. The light filled the sky around her and the Earth began to tremble. Kennedy stared in horror as debris flew everywhere. One enormous piece of stone flew right at her. There was not time to avoid it. It hit her.. and went straight through. 

Kennedy gasped and looked back as the thing flew through her body as though she was not there at all and sailed out over the cliff. Then it evaporated - tiny particles of stone disintegrating into nothing before her as she watched. That wasn't normal.

She turned back to the ruined temple, but there was nothing there. It was as though the thing had been ripped out of existence, and all that remained was a bare mountainside.

Kennedy panicked and ran towards where the temple should have been, looking around for something – anything – that would prove to her that they were still alive.

_Willow.._ she thought as she searched,_ where are you?_

* * *

Cordelia used her scythe to cut the arm off a particularly violent black clothed enemy, sending it screaming and retreating back from her. She moved forward to finish it off when the whole building started to shake. The horde stopped fighting. 

Angel, Spike, Illyria, Gunn, Connor and Cordelia stopped fighting too. The Earth convulsed. Suddenly there was a giant screech from over in the far corner of the room. They all looked over as two demons, roaring in fury, began to battle _each other. _

Then it started. All the demons in the room let out similar war cries and threw themselves at one another, thousands of years of rivalry and hatred unleashing itself. A few of them ran in cowardice through the gaping hole in the wall.

The six defenders stared at them in shock. A few continued to fight them, but the real danger now was not getting in the way of the other creatures battles.

"Why are they doing this?" Angel asked Cordelia as she fought her way over to him.

Cordelia shook her head, hoping, but not fully giving herself over to the idea, "Maybe.. maybe they're no longer under the senior partners control.."

"But why fight each other?" asked Connor, nursing an injured arm.

"Probably all hate each other," Spike said, shrugging.

One of the black clothed warriors Cordelia had been fighting earlier jumped past them, screaming in fury and aiming a long pointed dagger at a large lizard demon.

"You think?" said Cordelia sarcastically.

They stood there, watching the carnage in awe and surprise as the floor beneath them shook. Then it all stopped. The demons standing in and around the hotel all faded away, leaving nothing behind but empty air. Silence filled the foyer.

There were a few weapons spotted here and here, as well as scraps of clothing and spots of blood and.. other things – but not demon horde. Cordelia looked up to where the dragon had been, but all that remained was a giant pool of blood.

"Well.. that was weird," said Spike, looking around. "Where'd they all go?"

Gunn let out a groan that prevented Cordelia from venturing an answer; they all turned as he slumped down next to the back wall. He looked totally drained and clutched his side, the blood seeping through the bandage Connor had placed on him.

"I thought I'd be dead by now," he said in confusion.

"You're stronger than that mate," Spike said coming over to him - but his expression showed his concern.

Connor moved over to Gunn as well, "We need to get him to a hospital, as soon as possible," he said urgently to the others. Spike helped the big man up, and he and Conner guided him over to the crumbled doorway, Connor yelling back that he'd call them later.

Illyria was standing away from the others, blood trickling down her wounded back. She felt empty and grieved. Killing had not eased her pain. She felt now that nothing ever would. Emotions coursed through her body like she had never known. She felt love and grief. She.. did not understand why this was so.. why she cared for Wesley as much as she did. But it pained her deeply. She did not want to live any more it was so bad. She could now relate to many of the things he had said to her about Fred. This made the pain worse. She turned away, desperate to find a way to control herself, and headed for the steps leading up to the rooms.

"Illyria?" Angel said, watching her walk away.

She did not reply.

Cordelia turned to Angel, the two of them now alone in the lobby. "What is she?" she asked finally, looking off at where Illyria had just disappeared from sight.

"She's an ancient demon. An Old One. She took over Fred's body. It's.. a long story," Angel replied softly.

Cordelia didn't say anything, absorbing this information was painful. She couldn't bring herself to ask about Lorne and Wesley. Not yet.

Angel looked around the room, "What happened here? How did they just.. go.. like that?" he asked her.

Cordelia sighed and moved over to the steps to sit down, side stepping the pool of dragon blood. "Willow," she said quietly.

Angel looked surprised, "Willow?"

Cordelia nodded and said, "It's a long story."

Angel came over and sat down next to her, taking off his blood soaked jacket and putting it on the steps next to him a long with Spike's black sword, "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

It was snowing. Of all the times to snow, now was the worst. Kennedy ran blindly through the downpour of white, searching for her witches. She was lost, it was getting desperately cold and her hope was fading faster than the daylight. 

She resisted an urge to wail in frustration and despair.. they weren't here.. they were gone.. they were..

Kennedy saw a flash of red. Straight in front of her. Kennedy's heart leapt into her throat and she rushed forward towards it.

Willow and Eleanor lay on the ground in front of her, a thin layer of snow covering them. Willow's red hair was scattered across her face. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes were closed, her lashes dotted in sparkling frost. Kennedy saw blood on her arms and hands, and all over Eleanor. The two of them lay as still as death in front of her.

A sacrifice that had saved the world.

But not for Kennedy.

She broke down crying, collapsing into the snow strewn ground and clutching the body of her fallen lover.

* * *

"Do you think they made it?" Angel asked finally, Cordelia having just explained everything that had happened to her in the past two months since her return to the living world. 

"I.. I don't know," Cordelia said.

Angel nodded and looked down at the floor. Then after a moment he spoke again, "Cordy.. I.." he stopped and then started again, "Last time you came back.. but you didn't stay and.."

"Angel.." Cordelia interrupted, "Last time.. I had to leave. I had to.. to die.. and.. to be away from you, for all of this to work.." she took a deep breath, "I said I was on a different path – a different road, and I couldn't see it properly before.. but.. I'm sorry.."

He looked up into her eyes, "I can't lose you again, Cordy."

Cordelia put her hand back on his cheek, feeling a tear slide down her own, "I followed my road Angel.. and the funny thing was my road wasn't straight.. it was more like a circle.. and its lead me back around to you."

She leaned forward, put her arms around him and said softly, "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Willow's eyes opened. All she saw was white around her. White.. light. Not darkness. Light. 

She was free of the darkness that had possessed her earlier. She was herself again. She must be dead, she thought. But what was that smell? She took in a deep breath, letting the smell fill her lungs. It smelt damp.. but familiar. It smelt like..

"Kennedy.." she said out loud.

The slayer pulled back from her, her uncontrollable weeping cut off mid sob. She stared at Willow, incredulous. "You're alive!" she choked.

"Am I?" Willow asked distantly.

"Oh, oh my god! You're alive!" Kennedy said again and pulled Willow into a bear hug, engulfing her with love and warmth.

"Did we win?" asked Willow blankly as Kennedy held her.

Kennedy didn't really know the answer. The world didn't seem destroyed, so she assumed they had.

"Yes.. Yes Willow we won," she replied softly, so overwhelmed with relief and joy that she didn't even care if she was wrong.

"Oh good," said Willow.

Kennedy looked over at Eleanor, who was also just waking up. She opened her eyes and coughed a few times. She looked around, dazed. The world had turned white. How strange.

She sniffed a few times. She was really cold. Kennedy leaned over to her laughing and pulled her into the hug she was sharing with Willow. Eleanor was very shocked and surprised at this, but after a moment of feeling very awkward in the arms of two lesbians, she relaxed.

They had done it. They must have. They had saved the universe from tearing apart.

And.. that made her happy. She looked around. She wasn't in the temple anymore – but she was still _happy_. That was good.

Eleanor smiled - that was very good.

* * *

Connor and Spike sat outside the hospital room, waiting. They had gotten a few strange looks, showing up carrying in Gunn half dead and bleeding everywhere, themselves covered in cuts, wounds and injuries. The two of them had refused to be treated, resulting in even more curious looks, and were now simply praying and hoping for the best. 

A doctor had come out half an hour earlier to tell them that it would be touch and go and they weren't sure if he was going to make it. Connor had called the hotel, and Cordelia and Angel were on their way over.

The simply sat in silence, waiting.

Another half an hour passed before the others arrived. They had both changed clothes, but they still showed signs of conflict. Angel's neck and face were still dotted with dragon blood and his various injuries and Cordelia had a large cut on her left cheek.

"How is he?" Angel asked as Connor got up to greet them.

"No change yet, they still don't know if he's going to make it," Connor replied. Spike looked up at the others, "How's Illyria?"

Angel shook his head, "I don't know. She doesn't seem too bad physically - considering she got her back slashed open and fell thirty feet onto the ground."

Spike looked back at the floor in front of him, "Still torn up about Wes then."

Angel sat down next to him, opening his mouth and then closing it, bringing an arm up to his face. Connor took a good long look at him, then after a moment said, "Wesley's.. dead?"

Angel nodded silently.

Connor took in a breath and then looked away.

The door next to them opened and they all looked up as a short balding man wearing glasses came out and closed the door. He nodded at them and said, "Charles is in a stable condition at the moment, and at this stage we're fairly confident he's going to make a good recovery."

Everyone let out sighs of relief, Cordelia slumping into the chair on the other side of Spike pushing her hair back from her face.

The doctor continued, "Luckily none of his organs were punctured, but he did lose a lot of blood. We've given him a transfusion and at the moment he seems to be recovering well. He hasn't woken up yet, which isn't the best sign, but he hasn't sustained any head injuries so we don't think there's an issue there," He looked around at them, taking in their gang like appearance, "He needs rest now anyway, and I suggest the rest of you get some too."

Cordelia stood up, "Uhm.. is it alright if I stay here with him, in case he wakes up?"

The man nodded silently and then left them to talk.

Cordelia turned to the others, "I think it'd be better for him to see a familiar face when he wakes up, and it'll be sunrise before long," she said to Angel and Spike, who nodded.

"It's been a strange night," she said, "but.. um.. I sort of think we won."

Angel shook his head, confused, "I still don't understand everything."

Spike looked back and forward between them, "Well I don't understand _anything_, so you're one up on me. What the hell happened back there? With the demons going poof and," he turned to look accusingly back at Cordelia, "aren't you dead?"

"Aren't you?" Cordy said levelly.

Spike looked exasperated, "Why does everyone always have to bring that up? And-" he looked around angrily, "I might not have been! If that Shanshu crap was true! I just helped save the world – again – and I'm still as vamped out as ever." He leaned over and put his hand on Angel's chest. Angel pulled back from him, glaring. "And so is the golden boy of gloom over here."

Angel turned away, a resigned expression on his face, "We can talk about this tomorrow."

Spike looked at him, "Brooding! What a surprise. Not that I blame you – I'm feeling a little deflated myself, what with the lack of humanity going on here," he gestured down at himself.

Cordelia didn't know what to say about the prophecy. Something in Angel's expression told her he had already given up on it. She'd have to talk to him about that, but perhaps another time.

She looked at the shirtless young man standing beside her, "Connor.. thank you so much. For everything," she gave him another hug, "But.. it's late and your family is probably worried about you, so you should go home and get some rest." He nodded, and Cordelia continued, "We've all been through a lot.. I'll call you all when Gunn wakes up."

The three of them said goodnight to her and then moved away down the corridor to the exit. Cordelia sat back down, taking her vigil outside Gunn's room.

It had been a big day. A long day. She had been in Tibet this morning, gone through into that horrid temple and had to deal with all of those memories.. she'd discovered that there was a big bad evil making its way into the world and in the process destroying the universe.. she'd had to leave Willow and Eleanor to their fate.. possibly their deaths.. and she'd travelled halfway across the other side of the world so that she could battle it out with a horde of demons in a last attempt to help the people she loved..

But she had been too late to save some of them.

Cordelia put her hand on her cheek, feeling the dried blood of a wound she had sustained earlier. Some things never changed. Fighting. That was constant. Now she had lost Fred and Wesley.. and Lorne had left them after betraying and murdering Lindsey.

She sighed. Some things did change.

She remembered back to when the fighting hadn't been as big as this. When all they'd had to watch out for were the individual people. Saving a single person at a time. Taking out the evil guys – demons, vamps, lawyers.. It had been a lot more simple back then.

Now they were defenders of the whole world – fighting for the greater good and thinking as long term as possible. They'd just saved six billion people from an apocalypse.. Willow and Eleanor had anyway..

Cordelia wondered if they were OK and how she might feel if they weren't.

She looked up at the hospital ceiling. It was grey, unsurprisingly. Everything was grey now. Thinking about it now, Cordelia felt it had been much more rewarding when they had only been helping one person at a time. She hadn't felt as disconnected then. Would they ever go back to that? Did it bother her if they couldn't?

Cordelia looked back at the door to Gunn's room – he had risked his life for this. They all had. To show Wolfram and Hart that they weren't puppets. That they had a voice. A strong voice. To beat them back. And they had won, they had won when they hadn't expected to at all. That was rewarding wasn't it?

Cordelia sighed again, trying not to feel bitter.

_We fight whatever battles come at us, regardless of the scale. We dedicate our lives to what we believe in. We give our lives for it. We're champions – and that's the price we pay._

**

* * *

**

**End Chapter**

**

* * *

**

**References/Quotes**

Ok, so there's only one, but whatever.

"_I was.. but I'm back now."_

Evil!Cordy Season Four.. can't remember which episode.. she says it to Angel when he's all mopey about how crap The Powers are, and he's all "It's not like there's anyone up there watching" and she goes "I was.. but I'm back now."

**

* * *

**

**Author Notes**: I really enjoyed writing that chapter.. not the last part so much, but all the fighting and writing the gang and all that – it was a bundle of fun! I liked writing Spike, as you can probably tell with all the corny one liners I gave him. Sorry about that. tries to look guilty

Umm.. Main story line over. Yay!

But if you like the fic, don't despair, because there will be more chapters! More episode like stories though. I have lots of plans, plus I love writing all the characters together.. especially Spike. And I have a lot of things still hanging in the air.. unanswered, so I can't just leave things like that can I? I like writing this fic in general – it's the first one I've ever written.. so yeah. Please keep up with the wonderful reviews glomps everybody

Oh and by the way, please excuse my un-American spelling, I'm not American, which I guess explains that one! I did include the "SUV" term, which is not what we call them here, but I figure most of you are American, and the show's set in LA, so I should make some sacrifices.

Ohhh – and maybe next chapter there will be some artwork to go along with the story.

**

* * *

**

**A word on shipping:** The Angel/Cordy kiss & other Angel/Cordy moments. These don't mean I'm putting them together in the fic! Doesn't mean I'm not putting them together either - you'll just have to see what I do, but basically.. Buffyverse relationships are always very complex and usually heartbreaking and at most times bittersweet.. and as I've said I'm doing this sort of as canon as I can (whether you agree with whether I'm doing it well or not is up to you) so – just because she kissed him most certainly doesn't mean next chapter they're going to be having a happy la la relationship where everyone sits around holding hands and singing songs.

I wanted the Angel/Cordy reunion to be powerful because their relationship is a very important one (whether its platonic or not). Their parting in _You're Welcome_ was all sniff bye big smooch more bye so I think the reunion would involve smooching as well. I mean it would've been a little anti climactic if I'd have had them shaking hands or something yes?

This isn't a romance fic, it's (hopefully) more like an epic. Which will include romance, because what's the point in a story if there's no romance? It's just – not the only central point of the fic.

For the record though, _ultimately_ I'm a Buffy/Angel shipper.

**

* * *

**

**Next Chapter: **AFTERMATH

Will have a lot more focus on individuals. Not so much just Cordy. Everybody! Because now they're all together.

**

* * *

**

**Please Review!** If you read the fic I really really **_really_** appreciate comments. Good or bad (although I prefer good..) but I'm up for suggestions and stuff. That sort of stuff makes me want to continue writing. Thanks!


	4. AFTERMATH

**CIRCLES**

CHAPTER FOUR: AFTERMATH

**

* * *

**

**Quick Note:** There is a slight World Of Darkness crossover here (Vampire: The Masquerade anyone?) but don't panic if you have no idea what that is. If you do know what it is, please don't hurt me for what I did. My brother has already given me the "that's not right!" rant.

**

* * *

**

**Imzadi **– thanks for reviewing, but I'm really sorry when I say that I'm not going to be bringing Lindsey back. This fic isn't about him, it's about the other characters.. and that's just the way I'm writing it. I can see you're a very big fan of his though, hope there are some good Lindsey fics out there to satisfy your thirst!

Also, to the people that begged me not to kill Wes.. I'm very.. very sorry. I loved Wes.. he was one of my favourite characters.. but I can't bring everyone back from the dead.

Speaking of Wes, I'm sending out a special thanks to **shahid**, because I took in some of your suggestions :)

**

* * *

**

**On with the fic!**

_

* * *

_

_Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh and cruel. But that's why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be._

_**-Angel, Deep Down**_

* * *

A week after the fight and Gunn was out of hospital. He was still very weak and tired, and having some difficultly walking, but on the whole he was recovering well. Angel, Spike, Gunn and Cordelia had caught up on everything over the last two months, and now the four of them had a confused, basic understanding of what had happened. 

Cordelia had still not received word from Willow and Kennedy, and Illyria had shut herself up in Fred's old room and was not talking to anyone. The others had managed to clean up the hotel as much as possible, removing the blood stains and debris of the battle. The only souvenir remaining was the gaping hole in the wall where the entrance to the building used to be.

Gunn leaned on the counter for support as Spike, Angel and Cordelia stood next to him, talking. Cordelia had spent most of the week in hospital with Gunn, which aside from one meeting they had had just after Gunn had woken up, had not given them a lot of time to discuss things. Now that they were all back in the hotel they could talk more freely, and Cordelia felt it was time to broach the subject of plans for the future.

"I think we need to talk about what happens now," she said, looking at the three men.

"What do you mean?" Angel asked.

Cordelia looked off at the ceiling, saying almost casually, "Well.. you're not running Wolfram and Hart, and I'm no longer dead, and we're all together.." she sort of trailed off.

Gunn tilted his head forward towards her, a little surprised, "Are you suggesting we.. go back to how things used to be?"

"It's not going to be that easy," said Angel.

"How did what things use to be?" asked Spike, looking around at them.

Cordelia flicked her eyes over to him before looking back at Angel, "Well, there are people out there that need our help. And – now that the position of world's evilest law firm is open, it's only a matter of time before something takes its place! Ok, so maybe not more lawyers, but well, what I'm saying is, there's evil out there.. and we need to fight it."

She looked around at them. Angel said, "Cordy, we never said we would stop fighting just because there was some huge apocalypse.. it's not like it was the first one we've ever faced."

"Oh I know that. I'm just saying that, we're all here in the hotel – maybe we should think about starting up Angel Investigations again," she said.

Angel looked at her, and after a moment said, "Things are different now, I'm not sure if we can just pick things up where we left off.. so much has happened."

There was a short silence, broken after a moment by Cordelia saying softly, "Don't you think that's what they would've wanted?"

She didn't need to say who.

Angel looked down at his hands; Gunn looked up at Cordy. "I'm in," the street-kid turned super-lawyer said, "at least once I'm not hobbling around all day." He sighed in disgust, "God I feel like an old man."

Spike patted him on the arm and said, "Hey - I spent months in a wheelchair one time. I feel your pain," then he turned to Cordelia, "I'm in too, except I think we have to do something about the name. I'm not going around handing out business cards that say 'Angel Investigators' on them."

"Investigations," Cordy corrected.

"Well, whatever," he said "we'll have to change the name."

Angel's eyes flashed up and they looked at each other, "There's nothing wrong with the name, Spike."

"Not from your perspective no!" the other vampire retorted, moving over and sitting down on the pouf. Angel followed him.. and they began to argue.

Gunn looked nervously over at Cordelia, "You sure this is a good idea?"

Cordy smiled, watching the two vampires bicker, "Absolutely."

Cordelia looked over at the gaping hole in the hotel's wall and then turned back to Gunn.

"I think we're going to need to do something about that," she said thoughtfully. "Aside from it letting in the weather, it might be bad for business if people have to walk through our crushed in doorway before they ask for our help. Doesn't really inspire confidence does it?"

Gunn frowned, looking at the wall, "Not really. I've got a couple of friends who might be able to fix it up at a good price for us. I'll give them a call."

Cordelia looked apprehensive, "Are these contacts you had from Wolfram and Hart? Because I think those sorts of people might be hating us for at least.. a.. couple of hundred years.."

Gunn gave a rueful smile, "Oh no, these are some people I knew back before I could even spell legal associates. Construction guys."

Cordelia nodded and said, "Good. Hey, while we're fixing up the doorway.. do you think we should get some new rugs? I mean.. the floor in here is a little bare.. Ooh! We should also think about painting the upstairs rooms, I'm pretty sure that boring decor went out of fashion over fifty years ago.."

Cordelia's audible musing was interrupted by Angel yelling something particularly loud and angry at Spike. Gunn shook his head, "I'm not sure I can go through another year like this," he said.

Cordelia grinned, "Well I missed out on it, so it's still funny."

Gunn sighed, "That'll pass. Trust me."

Around ten minutes later Angel and Spike had stopped arguing and Gunn brought up the subject of their other house resident.

"Um, has anyone checked on Illyria lately?" he asked them.

Angel and Cordy looked at each other, and Spike shook his head, "I was giving her some time."

"Sometimes it helps when you've got someone to talk to," Cordelia suggested.

Angel looked over at her, "You don't know Illyria. She's really unpredictable. It's almost impossible to tell what she's thinking or.. what might help her. She's been even stranger since.." he stopped and looked down at the floor.

There was an uncomfortable silence where everyone thought about Wesley. Cordelia broke it after a moment, saying "I still think someone should.. check on her at least. It's been over a week."

Spike stood up, "I'll go."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Gunn asked him. Spike and Illyria's relationship had mostly consisted of them hitting each other.

Spike shrugged, "I think I'm probably the closest to her. When she wasn't punching my face in I thought we were getting along alright."

Cordelia gave Spike a surprised look which slowly turned compassionate when she saw he was serious in this commitment. She had no idea what to make of Spike with a soul. At first it had been strange accommodating to a person that had been a sworn enemy for so many years, but this world was so stuffed up and confusing that she'd accepted it anyway. She still didn't really like him, and had _so_ not forgiven him for biting her, but she smiled at him regardless and said, "Thanks."

He nodded and started up the stairs.

* * *

Illyria stood by her open window, a silent figure blending in to the darkness around her. The world was strange to her.. strange and cruel. She had been wary of it after she had lost her powers, but now she hated it. It was full of so much pain and suffering that she could barely find room to think, let alone breathe. She was overwhelmed by human grief. It consumed her, preventing her from feeling anything else. It drowned her in thoughts and memories and stabbed her with feelings of loss and emptiness. 

The door to her room opened, but she did not turn around. She remained facing the window, attempting to hold onto whatever self respect she still had left. They had all seen her grief control her, drive her to thoughtless acts that reflected none of her original glory. They knew how weak she was becoming, she did not need to reinforce their opinions of her.

The intruder stood at the doorway for a few moments, and then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Illyria paused before saying, "No."

"Sometimes it helps," he said, moving into the room.

"Nothing helps," she replied.

Spike closed the door and sat down on her couch. "You can't stay like this forever, blue," he told her.

She considered what to say. She could not stay like this forever.. or could she? Would it matter? Her existence felt so meaningless now, with Wesley gone. Once she had ruled the world, had everything she pleased at her fingertips.. a legion of adoring servants. All had worshiped her.

Now she had nothing. And she was alone. What did it matter what Spike thought of her? She was no more important than the dust that lined this room, or the rats that crawled in the filth of the street below. She turned her head around to look at him, finally giving in.

"I do not know what to do," she said.

Spike nodded, "It's like that."

Illyria looked back at the window, "I do not understand why I am like this. I feel grief and it is beyond anything I can comprehend. It is absolute. I have never felt this way before."

Spike sat in silence, waiting for her to continue.

"Everything I thought I knew has become twisted and broken. Things that should be stable are breaking apart and.. I feel lost. I do not know what's what and what isn't," she said and then turned her head to look up at the sky. "There is a hole inside me that is growing larger the longer he is not here. It's swallowing me up piece by piece.. making me weaker all the time. If.." she closed her eyes for a moment, "If I look at it too long it will burn right through me. It.. I'm in pain.." she said finally.

Spike got up and moved over to her. "Love hurts," he said softly, following her gaze out the window to the stars in the sky.

She turned to look at him, "What do you know of it?" she demanded.

"Too much," he replied.

Illyria sighed and turned back to the window. "Human emotions. Ones I once despised and belittled, never thinking would come to me. Now they control me.. taking away what dignity I used to have. Only I find I don't care. All I want is for the pain to lessen. This.." she didn't finish her sentence, as though there was a word she refused to speak out loud. After another moment of silence she asked, in a much quieter voice, "Does it ever go away?"

Spike continued to look up at the stars, "Not really. Time helps, but no – it's always there. Just under the surface."

Illyria shook her head, her expression haunted, "Then why go on? Why live with so much pain?"

Spike thought about this for a moment. Then he shrugged, "I don't know."

"Wesley endured it," she said, almost jealously, "The pain.. the grief.." she closed her eyes, breaking down some sort of emotional barrier before saying, "..the love..

"He went on even after he knew Fred was gone. Only.." she stopped and then looked down at herself.

Spike turned back to her, "Only what?"

Illyria did not speak further, and simply stood staring at her body until Spike finally left her alone again. She moved over to Fred's old bed and curled herself up in the sheets, all the while knowing she had become pathetic and powerless and nothing would ever free her of her grief, but clinging onto some strange confused feeling that it might help.

* * *

Cordelia sat on the steps just outside the gaping hole that was the entrance to the hotel, looking out at the garden. A warm breeze swept through the air and gently fell against her face. It was so strange to be back in such a warm environment after spending so long in Europe and Asia. 

Cordelia wished she knew how her friends were doing, and if they were even alive. It had been over a week – surely Kennedy, Willow and Eleanor would have contacted her by now, or at least tried to. So that left the reality that they hadn't survived, or something else had happened to them.

Cordy reached into her shirt and pulled out a necklace. Eleanor's necklace. The English girl had given it to her just before she'd left, and at the time Cordelia had felt really strange accepting it. But now she was glad she had a little piece left of those memories, something tangible she could hold and touch and remind herself that during those months, even when she had felt like it - she hadn't really been alone. She sighed and pulled her knees up to rest under her chin, clutching the necklace in her hands. So much had happened, and she felt strange and different trying to adjust to it all. She heard footsteps and turned to see Angel walking slowly towards her, stepping through the wall and coming to stand beside her.

"Hey," she said, looking up at him.

Angel sat down next to her, "What's wrong?" he asked. Straight to the point.

"Everything," she replied. She tried to smile ironically, but it just caused her more pain so she gave up.

She held her hand out to Angel, showing him the necklace, "Eleanor gave it to me before I left. It was.. the most valued thing she had. It was like the essence of who she was.. and by giving it to me it feels like she knew she wasn't going to make it through. And now-" Cordy looked away, finding it very hard to talk. She took a deep breath, Angel was her closest friend, and she needed to tell somebody..

"I think she's not.. they're not.. coming back. I left them there to die."

Angel reached out with his hand and pushed a piece of hair that was hanging over her eyes back behind her ear. He looked at her and said, "Cordelia, whatever's happened – it's not your fault. You were doing what Willow wanted you to do, to save your friends and to help make a difference. It was brave and noble and you saved us. You did the right thing."

"It might seem that way now," she said and then sniffed loudly, "It's just.. I've been trying for so long to keep myself together and get through all of this. Now I just want to be me again, and I can't because I've changed and.. everything else has changed and as hard as I try and can't get back at what I had. I just want to.."

Cordelia gasped and stopped talking. She stared up at the sky, her eyes white and flickering, her breathing rapid and sharp. Angel leaned over and grabbed her hand, confused and alarmed for a moment until he realised she was having a vision.

Cordelia's head sagged back towards her knees and she struggled to get her breathing back to normal. "Oh," she said softly, "I had almost forgotten what they were like."

Concern lining his face, Angel asked, "What did you see?"

"Vampires," Cordelia said, blinking, "lots.. and lots of vampires."

"Where?" Angel asked.

Cordy shook her head, "I.. I'm not sure. In a big room.. with a really long table down the middle. There were symbols on the table.. and there were.. maybe ten or twelve vampires sitting around it, and a lot more standing around them. One of them was saying something to the others.. he was like.. their leader. I don't know what he said though."

Angel frowned, "Doesn't sound good. Did you see anything else?"

"Uhm.. maybe a clock? An some.. liquid.. and screaming? It was all terribly vague. No shock there.." Cordelia said slowly, and then realised Angel was still holding her hand. They both looked down, and there was a long silence.

Angel looked up at her after a moment, not removing his hand, "I didn't know you still got your visions," he said, "didn't you give them to me?"

Cordelia nodded and then blushed slightly, very aware of the personal contact. Suddenly she felt a lot younger than she was. "Remember.. last week.. during the fight.."

"Yes?" Angel asked.

"When.. I kissed you.."

Angel stopped.

"I.. took my visions back," she said guiltily.

"Oh," Angel said after a while, "I still had them? I only had the one vision."

"You did?" Cordy asked, and then realisation dawned on her. She nodded and said "Of course you did."

"You didn't know?" he asked, surprised.

Cordelia shrugged, "I'm not the PTB's golden child you know. They don't tell me everything," she said.

Angel smiled at her, a rare occurrence for him that always made her smile back. "You seem pretty important to me," he said, "They give you visions, bring you out of a coma, bring you back to life to help save the world.. I'd say.. you were very special.."

"You would?" Cordelia asked, only vaguely noticing the gap between them had somehow vanished.

"I would.." he replied, leaning forward.. they were only an inch apart..

The hotel's front gate opened, and Angel and Cordelia pulled apart so fast that Cordy got a headache. The two looked up and saw Connor walking up to them through the garden.

Angel stood up, "Connor!" he said. They hadn't seen each other since the fight last week, and Angel was beginning to think he'd decided to sever connections with them again.

Connor nodded at him and Cordy, "Hi."

"Is something wrong?" Angel asked him, walking down the remaining steps to stand next to his son.

Connor shook his head, "Not really. I.. just wanted to check and see if everyone was alright," he looked at Cordy, "I got your message about Gunn. My parents heard it on the machine, which added to their suspicion about my injuries and the fact that they haven't seen the car in a week."

"What did you tell them?" Cordelia asked, also standing up.

Connor made a face, "I said I fell down some stairs, and that someone ran up the back of me in the car and it's at the shop getting repaired. I'm not sure they believed me."

"Wouldn't it be easier to come clean? Tell them the truth?" she asked him.

Connor gave her an unbelieving expression and said, "Yeah, that'd go down well. 'Hi mom, dad! Where have I been all night? I've been out fighting demons of course! I got thrown against an elevator by a lawyer, I saw a real live dragon get decapitated, the whole back of my car got ripped off by a thirty foot monster and I fought in an epic battle against the hordes of hell! But it's OK, cause I've got insurance!'"

Cordelia blinked, "Jeez, when did you get so sarcastic?"

Connor sighed, "I'm sorry, just.. there's a lot going on at the moment. I didn't like lying to my parents, but I know they'd just freak out if they knew what really happened. I don't want them to be worrying about me anymore than they already do. It's all.. just a bit complicated. Um.. How are things here?"

Angel said, "We're OK."

Connor looked at him strangely, "..OK.."

Angel nodded, looking down at the floor. Hearing about Connor's family, and even talking to Connor at all, gave him all sorts of mixed emotions he wasn't quite sure he wanted the rest of them to know about.

Cordelia crossed her arms, "Yes, everything's fine and dandy. Oh – wait! Apart from my scary vision of not-five-minutes-ago that involved a whole stack of vampires plotting something that smelled suspiciously like _big evil_!"

Angel looked at her, then said quietly, "Yeah.. apart from that."

Just then Spike and Gunn came through the dragon-dented wall. "Connor!" Gunn said, limping slowly down the steps.

"Hey, how's the side?" Connor asked, watching the tall black man hobble over to them.

Gunn grinned at him, "Better than it looks. I'm doin' OK, thanks to you," he said and clapped Connor on the shoulder. The younger man smiled back and nodded in appreciation of his gratitude.

Angel looked at Spike, "Get anything out of Illyria?"

Spike shook his head, "She's acting very strange, but not more than I'd expect. She talked to me though, I guess that's a start."

Angel nodded then said, "Cordy just had a vision."

Spike looked at her, an eyebrow cocked, "You're just like an antenna for the higher whatsits aren't you?"

Cordelia gave him a dead pan look, "You know I still haven't forgotten that you bit me, Spike."

Spike glared at her, "I already apologized for that. Deal with it."

Connor looked outraged, "You _bit_ her?"

Spike looked as though he was being put on trial, "Look I thought she was evil, I was being mislead – it wasn't my fault. Anybody can make a mistake!"

Connor was about to retort when Angel coughed and said, "Back on topic. Cordy had a vision.."

Spike, still watching Connor, said "Yeah.. right. What about?"

"Big cult of vampires planning something evil," she said.

"Cult of vampires?" Spike asked, "Which cult?"

"I don't know. There was a leader I think, talking to the rest of them.. and we'll need to look up some symbols, I think Wesley had some books that.." she stopped speaking for a moment, but before another uncomfortable silence could creep into the conversation she continued, "there.. are some books that we'll need to get."

Angel nodded, but Cordelia noticed his cheek was twitching. She hated how painful memories of Wesley were.

Gunn interrupted, "Um.. do we actually have _any_ books?"

Angel sighed, "Everything I had was in Wolfram and Hart. It's not like I had time to move my stuff out. I had planned on dying, so thinking ahead wasn't really in my agenda."

Cordelia gasped, "Oh god! We're broke!" she said.

Angel looked at her and sighed too, "Yeah.. we are."

"Just like old times," Gunn said ironically.

Cordelia punched Angel in the arm and said accusingly, "How could you let this happen?"

Angel took a step back from her, looking offended. "Let this happen?" he said incredulously, "Well I'm sorry I didn't set up a trust fund, but that sort of thought didn't occur to me while I was trying to prevent the apocalypse!"

"You were a _millionaire_ Angel! And.. now you're back to being Joe Poor!" she said desperately.

Angel almost smiled, "I actually kind of like it." He looked at Gunn, "Just like old times."

"Yes! Old times!" Cordelia said wildly, "No money, no rent and no clients! I remember old times Angel, because for me they weren't as long ago as they were for you!"

"We got by. It wasn't so bad," Angel said.

"What are you nuts?" said Spike. "What about the Viper?"

Angel's smile disappeared, "Oh well that's not so fun."

Connor looked back and forth between them. "Damn," he said, "and I was hoping to get you to pay for my car."

Cordelia groaned and said, "We need clients! And all I get is a vision of a bunch of boring old Camarilla sitting around a table talking!"

There was a stunned silence following this statement, but Cordelia hadn't realised she'd said something out of place.

"What?" Angel asked, staring at her.

"We need clients?" Cordelia repeated, confused.

"No the other part. You said the.. Camarilla were the vampire cult in your vision," he said.

"No I didn't," she said stubbornly.

"You did," Angel assured her.

"Who are the Camarilla?" she asked.

Angel and Spike exchanged a brief look before Angel said, "They were this.. strange vampire cult from about a hundred years ago. They were all about upholding laws and having strict requirements about siring and feeding and that sort of thing. They put on a respectable face but they were corrupt from the inside out. Most vampires didn't pay them any attention and they weren't a very big organisation. For those who did follow them it was more like a religion.. but I thought they'd disbanded a long time ago."

"Clearly they haven't," said Cordelia, remembering the vast number of vamps she'd Seen.

"How do you know about them?" Connor asked Angel interestedly.

Angel shrugged, "They made a fair bit of noise around the turn of the century. Last.. century that is. They asked me to join them in.. 1922 I think."

"Even with your soul?" Gunn asked.

"Probably because of it," Angel replied, "They were all about keeping a low profile on human killing as not to bring the human governments down on us. Worked on treaties and things. Pointless if you ask me – most vampires would never adhere to any of that, and the Camarilla didn't have anywhere near enough power to control them. They told me I would be a 'valuable asset'. I suppose me not feeding off humans was a plus to them."

"What did you tell them?" Cordy asked.

Angel shrugged, "I wasn't the sociable type back then and I politely declined."

Gunn raised his eyebrows, "Does that mean you beat them up?"

Angel looked at him strangely and then said, somewhat embarrassedly, "No I.. politely declined."

"Oh," Gunn said.

Spike had been standing thinking deeply for most of this discussion, but he seemed to have come to some sort of conclusion. He let out a short, bitter laugh that quickly turned into an exclamation of ironic anger as he turned to address Angel.

"Oh _he's_ got to be in on this!" the blonde vampire said loudly, "Slimy, dirty little thief! It's just his style to be in with the Camarilla!"

Angel tilted his head, "Let's not jump to conclusions, we never had any proof he had anything to do with them.."

"Sure we did! What about all that _choosing_ crap? And the _"Bordering the Line" _speech? Oh he was so down with their ways I wouldn't be surprised if he had that stupid little symbol tattooed on his butt!" Spike said vehemently. Then he paused to make a disgusted expression, "Ugh and she would know too!"

"What you think we should ask her?"

"Yeah that'd be a funny phone call! 'Hey Buffy, does your boyfriend have an ankh on his bum?'" Spike groaned in frustration, "Really classy conversation piece!"

Angel rolled his eyes and said, "I think we should ask her anyway."

Spike crossed his arms, "Then he'd be onto us! Plus he's always screwing us around, if he knew we that we knew that he was in the Camarilla.." Spike stopped and shook his head, then said "..I don't want to go through that again! I just want to kill the bastard and get on with my life, but _no!_ He has to keep flaunting his advantages at us.. like he's a better demon or something!"

Cordelia looked at Gunn and Connor, "Does anyone else feel like they're stranded up a river in a boat with only one paddle?"

Connor squinted at her, "Well if you mean am I confused and have no idea what's going on, then yes."

Gunn looked at Angel, trying to grasp onto a conversation that was clearly littered with "you had to be there". He asked tentatively, "The Immortal again?"

"Has to be!" Spike said angrily, sitting down on the garden wall.

"The Who?" Cordelia asked, still lost.

Angel said, "He's a vampire. A really really-"

"Stuck up, pompous, flea-bitten.." Spike interrupted.

"-really evil vampire," Angel finished angrily while Spike continued on,

"Slimy, backstabbing, deceiving.. line toeing.. well respected.. hack!"

"Plus his accent's really lame," Angel added defensively.

Connor looked confused, "Then why would he be part of this Camarilla? I thought you said they were sort of like lawful vampires?"

"Well.. he's not _evil evil_ I guess. He's just.." Angel tried to explain but couldn't manage it, all that came out was a painful cringe. Spike threw his hands up into the air.

"Always stealing our girls!" he yelled.

Angel sighed and sat down on the wall too, only separated from Spike.

"God I hate him," he said in a tired tone of voice.

Cordelia looked at Gunn for an explanation. Gunn shrugged, "There's some history there I think."

"He doesn't even have a soul!" Spike burst out loudly. "I mean - that's evidence enough that he's on their side! No self respecting soulless vampire _shows mercy_! He's got to be part of the Camarilla! I can't believe I never saw this before!"

"Hang on.. Buffy's dating him?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

Angel made a sort of none committal noise in his throat and continued to look and the pavement while Spike muttered under his breath.

"Another vampire? She really has a thing for the undead doesn't she? I always knew she was morbid but this is just.." she stopped herself as she saw Angel and Spike staring at her with very hurt expressions on their faces.

"Uhhh.. not that there's anything wrong with either of you.. or.. being a vampire and.. I'm sorry I should just stop talking now," she finished lamely and looked away.

Angel rose after a few minutes of listening to Spike's diatribe, and shook his head. He looked around at the others, trying to put The Immortal out of his mind.

"We need to work out this Camarilla thing.. find out what they're up to. I'll get some books, but in the meantime I want you all on your guard. Until we know what they're planning we've got to treat this as something big, so look out for anything unusual. The Powers want us back in the game we'll keep on fighting, but right now we've got limited resources so it's not going to be easy."

"Fat lot of good I'm going to be like this," Gunn said, indicating his injury.

"Better injured than dead," Cordy reminded him. He just grunted.

Angel turned around to look at the other vampire, "Spike – check if there's any word on the street about the Camarilla doing something recently. Local demon haunts and stuff might have some information, find out what you can."

Spike nodded and stood up, his shoulders slumped and his expression resigned. "I'm going home first. I'll go to bars and get pissed.. and.. find stuff out.. tomorrow," he said and walked out the gate.

Angel looked after him, a little peeved. After a short glare he turned to Connor, saying awkwardly, "Do.. you want me to take you home?"

Connor gave him a long look and then shrugged, "Nah, I'll catch a cab. It's fine. You don't need my help for anything?"

Angel looked a bit taken aback, "You want to help?"

Connor shrugged, not looking Angel in the eyes and trying to sound casual, "If you need me. I've got some books on the occult and vampires and stuff at home."

"You do?" Angel asked him, still surprised.

Connor nodded but didn't explain.

Angel floundered a little bit, "Oh. Um.. well.. that'd be a good place to start. If you find anything call.. or.. meet back here tomorrow and we'll go over information."

"Sure," Connor replied.

"OK, well, um.. be careful," Angel said.

"Always," said Connor seriously, and left.

Angel stared after him for a few moments, but the expression on his face was a lot different from the one he had used when Spike had departed. Gunn and Cordy allowed him a few moments to deal with the unexpected reappearance of his son for the third time in the fortnight before suggesting they go back inside and start on the problem.

* * *

Walking through the darkness of Los Angeles backstreets towards his apartment, Spike had convinced himself that The Immortal was in on this Camarilla plot thing. He didn't really have a lot to go by, but the amount of hatred and pent up emotions he had for the guy steered him in that direction. It didn't help that a part of Spike respected and admired The Immortal.. not that he would ever admit that to himself.. or to anyone else. 

Spike missed Buffy terribly. He still loved her, and deep down he knew that would never stop. His conversation with Illyria had brought his painful feelings about her back to the surface, as well as reminders that she was now dating his arch nemesis. This, coupled with the news that the Camarilla were back and in power, had brought about the conclusion that it all had something to do with The Immoral. So he brooded, not unlike his grandsire, all the way back to his apartment.

Tired, preoccupied and angry as he was, Spike did not sense that he was being followed. Hidden in the shadows of the buildings that he passed, someone was watching him.

And waiting..

* * *

The next day Angel managed to get them some topical books, and the research began in earnest. Cordelia had drawn out the symbols she had seen in her vision, which had given them a start on their investigation. There had only been three that she could remember Seeing, and so far they hadn't had much luck identifying two of them. The third they quickly discovered was the Camarilla's main symbol, a sword-like ankh, supporting Cordelia's strange outburst back in the garden, and providing them with the confirmation that they were looking in the right place. 

So Angel, Cordy and Gunn congregated in the Hyperion's office, working on the problem. Gunn sat next to the sparsely filled bookshelf, pouring over a book written in an old demonic language; Cordy leant over the table, flicking through a text full of runic characters; and Angel sat in the big chair next to his desk, sketching something. Even in the dull quiet of their seemingly all involving research, all three of them sensed there was something missing. _Someone_ missing. Three someone's in fact.

Wesley, Fred and Lorne.

Wesley's absence was felt the strongest, his loss still lingering freshly in their minds as they worked away in relative silence. Some things took time.

Gunn paused while reading a particularly boring section of demonic law (it went something like "the talons of all that remain in The Valley of Borders and Wings will be rewarded with utmost clarity..") and found his thoughts drifting to the last time he and Wes had been in this office. Their long standing rivalry broken, Gunn had been trying to convince Wes that going to Wolfram and Hart sounded like a good idea. Thinking back on it now, Gunn still wondered if it had been the right thing to do. So much had been gained, sure, and in the end they had defeated the Senior Partners.. but the personal cost still seemed too high. They had lost so much.. and now even though they tried to pick up the shattered pieces of what remained, some things just kept slipping through their grasp.

Gunn sighed and turned back to his book, the boring words of a language he would not have had a hope of comprehending prior to their move to Wolfram & Hart's washing over him.

Cordelia thought about Wesley too, thinking about the very last time she had seen him; remembering how she had known that it had been their final goodbye. At the time, however, she had thought that she was the one leaving, not him. Staying behind and missing the ones you loved often seemed harder than death.

Wesley could no longer feel pain, or loss. It was the rest of them that were scarred.

Cordelia's thoughts were interrupted by Angel leaning across the table and showing her the image he had been drawing. It was the face of an incredibly good looking man, although his expression seemed to display something angrier and darker. Cordelia suspected that this was because Angel had drawn the picture, and his emotions had crept through into the sketch.

"What a dish!" Cordy said, looking up at him and smiling. Angel scowled, but Cordy had just been teasing. She nodded and pursed her lips, again turning serious.

"That's the guy alright, he's the leader," she told him.

Angel needed reassurance, "You're sure?" he asked.

Cordelia nodded, "Positive. That's not a face you can forget."

He looked away, his expression unreadable, but she could feel the vibes of frustration he was sending off. She picked up the sketch and handed it to Gunn.

"The Immortal, leader of the Camarilla," Cordelia introduced him to the image.

Gunn raised his eyebrows, "Fair enough."

Just then Spike entered through the doorway, bringing a strong smell of beer in with him. Cordy wrinkled her nose, but before she could comment, Spike spotted the picture.

His jaw hardened and he glared at it, then looked expectantly around at the other three.

"He's in on it, right?" he asked.

Cordelia paused and then nodded, "Yup. The leader, by the looks of things."

Spike snorted angrily, muttered "I knew it," under his breath and walked over to the table, sitting down on the book Cordy had been studying. Angel looked up at him.

"Find anything out?"

Spike made a face, "No. The city's dead. S'bugger all people about, and the ones I did find all know that something's going on, they're just not sure what." He reached into his duster and pulled out a large bottle, tilting it towards Angel so he could read the label. He grinned, "Managed to get this for free though, so not a complete waste of time."

Angel looked at the bottle for a few seconds, and then back up at Spike. "Nothing else then?"

Spike looked up at the ceiling, as though trying to remember. "Ooh, yes. There are almost no vampires on the streets and in the pubs. Something's either got 'em spooked, and they're all hiding under their beds clutching their knees.. or the Camarilla have grown a lot bigger than we expected - which seems likely, although there was a guy that kept rambling on about an emissary of hell that had come to purge the world.."

The others looked at him, he shrugged. "Yeah, I though he might have been on to something at first.. but that was before he started babbling about the giant winged camel that was sure to take his soul if he didn't brush his fangs on a regular basis." Spike snorted, "Like _he_ had a soul to take!"

Gunn sat back in his chair, sighing, "So we don't really know anything."

Angel frowned, "That's not entirely true. We know that the Camarilla are back in power and they have lots of followers. We know that The Immortal is leading them." He looked around at them. "It's a start," he said.

Cordelia pulled the book out from underneath Spike, who was taking a swig from his bottle at the time and slopped it all over his shirt. Cordy ignored his angry protests, instead looking at Angel, "I'm sure we'll know a lot more once we figure out what those other two symbols mean."

"Which symbols are they?" Spike asked, looking over at Cordy's sketches and wiping his shirt.

Cordelia held up the paper and showed him. He shrugged, "They look pretty specific."

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and the four of them looked over to see Connor standing in the frame, holding a large red book.

"Hey," he said, smiling in greeting. "I think I found something."

"Really?" Angel said, sitting up straighter in his chair as Connor entered the room.

Connor opened the book he was holding and handed it across the room to Angel. "From the third paragraph. I'm not sure if it's helpful.." he said as Angel took the book, "..but it mentions a group of vampires that tried to negotiate with the British royal family back in the 17th century. They made some sort of deal that had the country's nobles and royalty protected for about two months before things fell through. The group was lead by what the book refers to as a 'Prince'. There's a picture."

Connor reached over and turned the book to the next page. The others crowded around to have a look. A black and white ink drawing of the 'Prince' was depicted in the midst of the text. The man had shoulder length hair, dark shadowed eyes and he wore a superior expression on his handsome face. In his arms was the body of a beautiful young maiden, her head tilted back and her neck revealing two puncture wounds. It was The Immortal.

Spike muttered angrily, "'Prince'? Now the bastard's _royalty_? Oh this never ends!"

"Definitely the Camarilla then?" Connor asked.

Cordelia pointed to The Immortal's chest, where a tattoo could be made out, just over his heart. "That's their symbol," she said.

Angel grunted in affirmation, still reading. "Right after the treaty with the Monarchy crumbled there was a great massacre.. 'the blood of innocents spilled across the plains of Europe'.. that sort of thing. They have pictures." He turned the page to show them but Cordelia held up her hands and sat back down.

"No thanks. I had pasta for dinner and I don't really have a yearning to see it again," she said distastefully.

Angel bypassed the more gruesome depictions and continued to read. "It says here that this group of vampires strongly believed that they were the most superior species around. Listen to this; 'We are the united force that will bring salvation to our kind. Anyone who stands in our way will suffer and perish. Our blood is pure and noble, and our cause will save us all from damnation and.. the fires of the eternal valley. We are the future. We are immortal.'" Angel looked up at them.

"That doesn't really line up with the Camarilla I remember. More the complete opposite. The ones I knew just wanted to ensure the purity of bloodlines and keep the existence of vampires out of public knowledge."

"Bunch of namby pamby prats," Spike chimed in.

Angel nodded, "Pretty much. It was all a façade though.. most of them just wanted to get rich and powerful without all the hard work. They believed in cutting deals and treading a fine line, as most of them were weak and feared the growing numbers in human populations. They believed once given enough power humans could become a serious threat, one that could lead to their destruction. So they made their deals and compromises.. all the while trying to prevent arousing suspicion from the humans." He frowned and gestured down at the text.

"This organisation from the 17th century seem much more patriotic and violent. It's like they're a completely different group."

"Maybe they grew soft over time," Spike said.

"Maybe," Angel said, but he didn't look convinced.

"They've both got one thing in common though," Gunn said, pointing at an image showing The Immortal and three other vampires, this time with their demon faces showing, standing over a pile of dead bodies.

Angel frowned, "As much as I hate The Immortal, he never seemed the type to care about any of this stuff. Damnation and purity. Here it says 'We will use any means necessary to achieve our salvation' – see that just doesn't sound like him."

"He's too _noble_ and _independent_," Spike said in a tone so sarcastic it almost hurt to listen to.

Angel held up his hands, "None of it makes sense."

Connor crossed his arms, chiming into the conversation for the first time in a while, "Lets assume for a moment that he is this guy in the book, and believes all that stuff about vampire superiority and salvation from the fires of Gehenna."

"Ge-what-a?" Cordy interrupted.

"That's the 'Valley of Eternal Flame'.. hell on earth I think. It's another word for the apocalypse," Connor explained.

"Oh," said Cordelia softly.

Connor continued, "Anyway, the book goes on to say that this sect disappeared just before 1700. The text suggests they were killed by an 'emissary from god' come to bring justice down on them for all their sins, but that's probably just because the people that wrote the book came from a highly superstitious period."

"Wait," Gunn said, standing up. "Emissary from god?" He hobbled over to the bookshelf again and began searching for something.

"Go on," he said as he sat back in his chair and sorted through the books.

Connor nodded, "Ok, well.. we know that the Camarilla came back over two hundred years later, but in a different form. From the sounds of things, _that_ Camarilla wouldn't really pose much of a threat to us – they were small, corrupt and nobody liked them. But this group from the 1600's commanded respect and fear and despite trying to cut deals, did a whole lot of damage. They seem completely different, but when you boil it down they both want the same basic principles. They wanted blood purity, they wanted to survive and they wanted peace."

"Peace?" Spike said in surprise. "The 1600 boys all just wanted to rule the world! Where'd you get peace from?"

"They didn't want to rule the world, they wanted salvation for all vampires. It's a different thing. They believed in an apocalypse coming and they wanted to prevent it from happening. They just were willing to go to any means to achieve that, even if it meant killing people or whatever. Now the Camarilla of the 1900's were a bit different in the regard that they weren't going on about an apocalypse, at least not as far as we know. They still wanted to survive, by using any means, and from the sound of it, 'any means' includes associating with humans and cutting deals with them."

Angel, Cordy and Spike stared at him. Spike blinked, "That's a pretty deep theory."

Connor looked kind of embarrassed, "I had a bit of time to think about it."

"That's actually starting to make sense," Angel said. "But why would they think we were in danger of becoming extinct? Vampires have been around for thousands of years, we're survivors."

"Because of how the first group was wiped out," Gunn said, sitting up with a book in his hands. "I just remembered something when Connor said that an 'emissary of god' killed them, because Spike had said almost the same thing earlier. An 'emissary of hell' had come to kill all the vampires."

"Hey – some crazy guy in a bar said that, I wouldn't put much confidence in it," Spike pointed out.

"I wasn't going to, until I remembered that I'd read the words before." He pointed at the book, and then read out, "'In 1697 a large group of vampires succumbed to the _wrath of justice_ in southern France. An _emissary of god_ was sent to wipe out the demons, allowing the gates of heaven to open for all the victims they had taken.'"

"Sounds like a bunch of religious crap," Spike said.

"I was about to say the same thing," Cordelia agreed.

Gunn tilted his head, "Bare with me. 'The emissary appeared in a blaze of light, and seemed to take the form of a young woman. She had long brown hair and wielded the power of a demon and carried the knowledge and heritage of generations before her.'"

There was a short silence.

"A slayer," Angel said, breaking it.

"Got it in one," Gunn nodded. "I think most of the rest of that is just garbled from accounts of people who didn't know what they were talking about, and naturally assumed that anything out of the ordinary was some sort of sign from the heavens. But it does seem like a slayer was responsible for the downfall of that group. It might explain a lot.."

Cordelia looked puzzled, "Hang on.. The Immortal's little band of nuttos were wiped out by a slayer, but somehow he managed to escape.. and now he's.. dating one?" Cordelia said, putting everything together. "Yes, that explains a tonne!"

Angel said, "Well it's a bit odd, but the guys always been unpredictable. And it would explain their fear of extinction.. and the die-back of the Camarilla. The Immortal runs off after his followers are killed.."

"..and spends 150 years in a Tibetan Monastery!" Spike said suddenly, staring at Angel.

Angel looked at him, his mouth dropping open a little. "I'd almost forgotten that."

Spike nodded slightly, "I can see why you'd want to."

Angel made a face, remembering Darla's praises of The Immortal back in 1894.

"That would also explain why the Camarilla had such a changed attitude when they resurfaced," Connor said. "Spending 150 years meditating might change a person significantly. When he started the organisation up again he'd had time to re-think things. Probably had a whole different view of the world."

"Ok," Cordelia said, "that's all fun and good, but it doesn't explain why I got a vision _now_? The Camarilla are relatively harmless aren't they? Making treaties and trying to keep killing people to a low? If all they want is to survive..?" she left the question hanging.

"I don't think that makes them harmless at all," Angel said, "People will go to any lengths to survive, demons even more so. But what _would_ they do.. what's changed now.."

Cordelia gasped. They all looked at her.

"You said they feared extinction.. from _one_ slayer? What would they do.. when there are thousands of slayers out there..?"

"Thousands of slayers? What?" Connor asked, "I thought there were only two - Buffy and Faith!"

"Willow did a spell.. made it so that every potential slayer in the world got the destiny they were meant for. They all became slayers. They got the power, the strength, the attitudes.." Spike said, almost numbly.

"An army of slayers," Angel said, "that's gotta be a serious threat to the Camarilla."

"But The Immortal's _dating Buffy_. Surely he would've gotten over that slayer-phobia or he wouldn't be with her would he?" Cordelia asked.

Spike's eyes widened. "Unless he's using her so that he can find a way to get rid of all the other slayers! Man I knew there had to be some reason.. I swear if he hurts her.."

"We won't let that happen," said Angel softly from the corner of the room.

"You're damn right we wont!"

"Hey, this is all hearsay people," Gunn interjected, "We don't _know_ anything yet, we don't have any substantial evidence that proves any of this. The Camarilla might have cut a deal with the slayers, that seems more their style now doesn't it? Buffy might not be in any danger at all."

"We don't know that either," Angel said. "We have to contact her."

"I'll do it," Spike said.

"_I'll_ do it," Angel replied, looking at him dangerously.

"The hell you will!" Spike said back loudly.

"Um, guys?"

"Spike, we don't have time for this!" Angel retorted.

"Guys?"

"Fine, then let _me_ call her!" Spike returned smugly.

Angel glared at him, "You're still a child, you know that?"

"Hello? Souled vampires?"

"Oh like you're any different!" Spike shouted.

"Enough!" Cordelia yelled, and the two vampires stopped to look at her. "If you two would put your little marital problems aside for one second, you might take the time to listen and use your brains. We have _two_ phones on the same line. You can _both_ call her."

There was a short silence.

"Oh."

"Right."

"Sure, we'll.. um.. do that then."

As they left the room, Cordelia crossed her arms and shook her head. "Not that she'll be able to hear what they're saying through all the bickering.."

* * *

Angel dialled the number. Spike stood next to him, leaning forward on the counter, with the second phone in his hand. His expression was troubled and the side of his mouth kept twitching, a gesture that was drawing Angel's eye and starting to annoy him. 

"Does she still think you're dead?" Angel asked him as the international call went through.

Spike turned his head to face the other vampire, "Um.. I'm not sure."

"You never told her?" Angel asked him in surprise.

"Of course I did!" Spike said adamantly.

"Then how would she not know?" Angel said.

Spike looked defensive, "Well, er.. right before we did the whole suicide thing, I.. realised I hadn't let her know that I was back.. and well I figured if I was going to die I ought to let her know first hand that I was back.. and that I might die again." He paused, "So I waited until I knew she'd be out so that I could leave a message."

Angel snorted, "You coward."

Spike looked affronted, "Hey! I had my reasons!"

Angel raised an eyebrow in doubt, which Spike returned with a glare and said, "Ok, I'm not proud of it – but I was about to go out and probably die, I wasn't up for a heartfelt difficult conversation."

Angel shook his head. He was on hold and the call was being redirected, it was taking a while. After a moment he sighed, giving in to his curiosity.

"What did you say?" he asked Spike.

"Uh," Spike said, trying to remember, "Not sure.. I was sort of extremely drunk at the time."

Angel snorted again as he pressed his ear into the phone, "Jeez, how long does it take to get a call out to Italy? Oh! It's ringing!"

Spike scrambled to attention.

"I'll go first then," Angel smiled as the phone picked up, leaving Spike no time to rebut before Angel spoke.

"Hey Dawn, it's Angel-"

"-and Spike."

"Right, and Spike. Is Buffy home?"

"Spike? Oh god how are you? Andrew told me you were alive! Why haven't you called before?" came the voice on the other end.

Spike shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, I've been really busy. I'm good.. but I need to talk to Buffy."

"She's not home," Dawn said.

"Where is she?" Angel asked.

"She's.. out. She left about a week ago, I'm not sure where _exactly_. There was some big slayer emergency-"

Spike and Angel exchanged a worried look.

"-so she had to go and help sort it out."

"Was The Immortal with her?" Spike asked quickly.

"Uh.. no he's out of town too though. Hey how did you know about tha-"

"How long has he been gone?" Angel cut her off.

"Um.. a little over three weeks? There was some thing a little bit before that where.. what did he say.. um.. some old friends of his needed help _getting a head in business_ so he would be busy for a while, helping them out."

Spike and Angel looked at each other again, this time the exchanged expression was one of immense frustration and dislike.

Dawn continued, "But.. I think he finished with that.. Oh – wait.. there was something else that came up and he had to leave.. the Saturday before last. Why?"

"Do you have a number to contact Buffy on?" Spike asked her, ignoring her question.

"Um.. no. She went overseas. She left me with a number of one of the places she was staying, but I tried to call her yesterday and she'd already left there. They said she would be on location a lot so it was nothing to worry about.. what's going on?"

Spike put the hand over his phone, blocking his voice. "She's not telling us everything," he said.

Angel did the same and replied, "Probably been told we were working for Wolfram and Hart.. that really stuffed up our reputations, you know."

Angel pulled his hand away and spoke into the phone, "We're not sure what's up yet Dawn, it's probably nothing. We just wanted to talk to Buffy. Is there someone staying with you? Andrew or somebody?" Angel asked as Cordelia came out of the other room and walked over to the counter, her eyebrows raised in silent question.

"No," Dawn replied, "Andrew went with Buffy when the emergency happened.. but Giles is here – do you want me to go and get him?"

"Giles? Um.." Angel said slowly, remembering the last conversation they'd had.

"Giles?" Cordelia asked, moving over to them and taking the phone from Angel.

"Yes we want to talk to Giles," she said quickly.

"Who's that?" came the other voice.

"It's Cordelia," Spike told her, still holding on to the other phone.

"Cordelia.. um.. oh.. wait isn't she dead?" Dawn asked.

Cordelia sighed, tired of getting that reaction. "Was dead, not anymore. I need to talk to Giles, can you put him on please?"

"Sure, hold on."

Angel looked at Spike, "Do you think this has anything to do with the Camarilla?" he asked.

"I don't know. With The Immortal gone it seems suspicious," Angel replied.

Cordelia shook her head, "Conclusions – jumping to. Stop."

Then she made a face, "Although you're probably right. I guess that means Buffy isn't home?"

Spike sighed. "No, she's not. Again."

Cordelia didn't ask what that meant, but just then Giles' voice came through on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Giles! It's Cordelia-"

"-and Spike."

"Yeah, and Spike."

"Cordelia? Spike?" Giles said, startled.

"Yeah, I know. We're both dead," Spike said.

"_Were_ dead, Spike. You might still be in that unpopular category, but _I_ have returned from beyond and I am now a hundred percent _not dead_!" Cordy said stubbornly.

"Fine," Spike replied sullenly.

"Yes. OK, now that's clear – Giles!"

"Cordelia?" his reply came back, sounding even more confused than before.

"Have you heard anything from Willow and Kennedy in the last two weeks?" she asked eagerly.

"Willow and Kennedy?" he repeated.

"Yes, Willow and Kennedy! You know who they are right? Witch and Slayer? Lesbian lovers last time I looked. Have you heard from them!" she said, her patience ebbing away.

"Uh, no, no I haven't," Giles replied, and Cordelia felt her heart sink into her shoes, "Why, what's happened?"

Cordelia sighed, "We.. we had to um.. save the world – and I don't know.. I don't know if they made it. They were in Tibet, at that temple you told us about. We were all there, but I had to leave.. and they haven't contacted me yet."

Cordelia heard Giles sharp intake of breath.

"I thought they might've.. talked to you.." she said.

"No, they.. they haven't. Not yet anyway. How long has it been?" he asked.

"Uhmm.. nine days," she said.

"And they were in Tibet?" he double-checked.

"Yeah.." she replied.

"Well, it's a remote area, it might take them a while to get to a phone," he said, as much trying to reassure himself as her.

"I thought of that," Cordelia replied, "but Willow managed to send me across the planet in a few heartbeats, you'd think she'd be able to do the same for her and the others."

"Well.. yes.. or at least get a message out.. but what if they were really tired from.. er.. saving the world. Big magics sometimes are very draining," he said.

"Oh.. well.. yes I guess so. That would make sense.." Cordelia said.

"I'm.. I'm just saying it's probably a bit early to be jumping to conclusions. I'll call you if I hear anything, and in the mean time I'll try some standard locator spells to see if I can contact or find them," Giles said, his voice tired and heavy, but still providing the calming effect it always used to.

"Thanks.. thanks Giles," she said softly.

"You're welcome, Cordelia," he replied.

Cordy pulled away from the phone and handed it back to Angel. She blinked back tears of worry, and sat down on the pouf in the middle of the lobby. She just had to wait a bit longer. She didn't know anything.. she shouldn't jump to conclusions..

"Giles? Hi, it's Angel,"

"Angel."

"Yeah, oh – right. We don't work for Wolfram and Hart anymore," Angel said quickly.

"Yep, we killed the lot of them," Spike agreed happily.

"Really?" Giles said, a little doubtfully.

"Ok, we had help, but yeah – we're free from corporate living again!" Spike said.

"Anyway, we needed to know where Buffy went. We think she might be in trouble," Angel said.

"Look, I can assure you that Buffy is quite capable of taking care of herself. She's not alone anyway-"

"-is she with The Immortal?" Spike asked quickly.

"The Immortal? No, no she's not," Giles replied. "Why?"

"He's up to something. Cordelia had a vision with him in it," Angel said.

"A vision? Oh. Hmm.." Giles said.

"Look, Giles, just promise me that you'll watch him. He's bad news, and I know you all think he's a great guy for Buffy, but-"

"-A great guy? Well, I certainly don't think that. I've never liked him, and I keep telling Buffy to make some better choices with her relationships, no offence-"

"None taken," Spike and Angel said at the same time.

"-but she's not a child, and I can't control her. She's allowed to make her own decisions."

"But it's The Immortal!" Spike said loudly.

"I take it that you know him?" Giles said.

"Yes! Very well, he's an unpredictable, evil, sodding bastard that's always getting the better of us!" Spike said bitterly.

"You're jealous?" Giles asked.

"Hell yes! I.. wait – no of course not! Of that giant prat? I don't think so!" Spike said, his hands clenching.

Giles sighed, "Look, I've got to go – get started on looking for Willow and Kennedy. Trust me though, Buffy will be fine, you don't need to worry about her all the time. I'll look into The Immortal as well though, just in case."

"Thanks Giles," Angel said.

"Yeah, bye," Spike added.

They clicked off their phones and looked at each other.

"So what now?" Spike asked.

"I don't know.. um.. find them?" Angel suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Spike said, "I'll head home and get some supplies and then sweep the city again, find out anything I can."

"Good," Angel said.

Spike made a face, "When we finally find The Immortal, we are going to have a nice long chat about.. his manners."

Angel nodded, "I agree. It should involve knives."

"And forks," Spike said, causing Angel to look at him strangely.

"Nevermind," the younger vampire said, shaking his head and walking out into the lobby, heading through the crumbling doorway.

Gunn and Connor emerged from the office, talking. Angel walked over to Cordelia, who was still sitting on the pouf in the middle of the room.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

Cordy smiled sadly, "I will be."

Gunn and Connor made their way over to them. "Find anything out?" Gunn asked.

Angel turned to them, "Uh, yeah. Buffy got called away from Rome for some 'slayer emergency' and The Immortal's out of town."

"We knew that anyway. I only have local visions," Cordelia said quietly.

"So he's here?" Gunn verified.

"Guess so," Cordelia sighed.

"So what now?" Gunn asked, looking at Angel.

"Spike's going to see if he can find out anything else. I.. I think we're going to need more resources," Angel said, then he slumped his shoulders, "I think we'll need to get some of Wesley's things."

"Oh," Cordelia said from her chair. Another one of those silences filled the space around them.

"I'll go," Connor said suddenly.

"Me too.." Gunn added.

Angel nodded, "Good. Um.. do you want to ask if Illyria wants to go with you?"

Gunn gave him a look bordering on shock.

"She's grieving. We all are, but.. I just think it might be good for her to get out. Find.. closure.. or something. She's a part of the team too, but she's not going to be any good to us if she's up in her room.. brooding all the time," Angel said.

"Yeah, we know how bad that can be," Cordelia said sarcastically.

Angel ignored her comment. Gunn sighed and nodded, "Yeah.. I'll go ask her. Coming Connor?"

The two men started up the stairs. Angel turned to Cordy, "You sure you're OK?"

"No," Cordy replied sitting back into the chair. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, "I just.. have to.. deal with some things.."

He sat down next to her, "I'm always here for you Cordy."

She opened her eyes slightly and peered at him through the cracks. She gave a small smile, just taking pleasure in the fact that she _could_ look at him.

"I know."

* * *

Spike knew Buffy could take care of herself. He knew she was probably fine. 

But that didn't stop him from worrying about her.

What if something happened and he never got the chance to make up for not saying he was back properly? Spike groaned inwardly as he walked down the steps that lead to his basement-apartment. _I can't believe I left her that message_, he thought bitterly as he reached the last step and stood in front of his door. He reached into his pocket and searched for his keys.

He remembered the last thing she had said to him, before he'd gone up in a towering inferno of light, all those months before.

"_I love you."_

She had said it. Not that she'd meant it, but she'd cared enough to say it anyway. He slumped his shoulders and pushed the key into the lock.

And now she was with The Immortal. What the hell was she thinking? Spike shook his head and muttered under his un-breath as he pushed open his door and let himself into his apartment.

He headed straight over to the fridge. After all that angst and worry he really needed a beer. He opened the fridge and bypassed the blood packs, reaching into the back and taking out a cold bottle. He straightened his back and closed the fridge door, preparing to open the beer.

Then he froze.

A familiar scent wafted towards him, overpowering all his other senses and for a moment shocking him to the core. Someone was in his apartment. He spun around.

That someone was sitting on his bed, watching him.

Spike stared at her. He couldn't believe it.

Dana.

**

* * *

**

**END CHAPTER**

**

* * *

**

**Author Notes: **

Everybody remembers Dana right? _DAMAGE_, Season 5 Angel? The nut job slayer that hacked off Spike's hands?

Yes?

Good.

If not: Go. Watch. Episode.

It's the best ep (imo) of the season. Go! Watch!

**

* * *

**

**References/Quotes**

(Illyria talking to Spike)

"_**If I look at it too long it will burn right through me"**_

Wesley, _"Underneath"_, Angel, Season 5. He says it to Illyria, the wording's a little different, but he's talking about how she makes him feel – and I really wanted to give Illyria a line that he had previously said to her. I thought that one was appropriate, considering the subject.

(Illyria talking to Spike)

"_**What do you know of it?"**_

_-_Illyria, "_Power Play_", Angel, Season 5. Very originally, she says it to Spike. I'm so lazy, but I love the line.

(Connor to Angel and Cordy)

"_**I fell down some stairs"**_

Angel, _"Destiny"_, Angel, Season 5.

Fred: Omg! Angel what happened?

Angel: I.. er.. fell down some stairs. Big stairs.

:spike comes in looking equally as beaten up:

Fred: Stairs huh?

I loved that. And giving it to Connor.. just.. felt right.

"_**You had to be there"**_

I could've not credited this, cuz it's a fairly common saying, it's just I really did quote it from "Sinfest" which is an online comic that often have skits called "You had to be there", which are hilarious and.. er.. well anyway, it's funny.

(Giles on the phone)

"_**You're welcome, Cordelia"**_

:smirk: That's not clever at all, but I felt like doing it. So there.

* * *

"_**The Camarilla"**_

Anyone who's actually a World of Darkness fan and knows who the Camarilla are, will probably be wanting to rip out my insides with a large pointy dagger about now, noting all the things I changed and got "wrong".

Yes, I do realise that I did that. WOD and the Buffyverse are like oil and water and I really shouldn't have mixed them, but I wanted to and I've done it, so there. Many of their rules (like the ways to kill vamps and their appearance, clans and the Masquerade and all that stuff) are totally contradictory to one another, and seeing as this is primarily an Angel (as in Buffyverse) fic, I decided that it was WOD that got it's rules changed. I suppose I could've just called the Camarilla (in my fic) something different, bypassing the whole need for WOD, but it works well with my intended story line, and I'm lazy.

Sue me :wicked grin:

And no, I won't be including any WOD canon characters in this, cuz that would be totally crossing the line. No clans either, cuz it just makes things messy.

Everyone who has no idea what I'm talking about just don't worry about it. There won't be anything the average reader won't understand. Unless you already don't understand stuff, which, if that's the case, I'm apologize profusely.

Am I being too condescending? By the way condescending means "talk down to".

**

* * *

**

**More Author Notes**: Cuz the first were just for people lacking Dana knowledge!

Sorry about the enormous gap between episodes – er.. chapters. And the fact that the first half was really crap.. sorry about that too. I rewrote this chap sooooo many times, tried lots of different things.. virtually went mad..

Some things I tried included:

Going back to Connor's house and having his parents reaction to his being beaten and bruised and car ripped to shreds and most importantly coming home at early hours of the morning without a shirt on!

But it didn't work and I scrapped that, although I used the "fell down some stairs" line.

I also had Gunn waking up in the hospital and talking to Cordy about everything..

And I had Angel being all "everything I did was for nothing" boo-hoo! But I decided that was really unpleasant to read and pointless as far as plot and character development are concerned.

I also had a nice little battle with Spike and Angel and a group of Archduke Sebassis' men. And I had another little plot line with some repercussions of the W&H-ass-kicking.. involving blue demons (more sebassis stuff) and blood rights and legions and things..

BUT at the end of the day none of it worked and I didn't like it, it wasn't important and it seemed to drag on.. SO I crammed that whole first week into a paragraph which made me feel a lot better, except for all those fantastic lines (whoops there goes my ego!) I came up with and didn't get to use.

Oh well, at the end of the day I'm moderately happy with this chapter now, _because it's **finished**_, and I can get on with the much more exciting chapters! Which reminds me..

**

* * *

**

**Next Chapter: **Dana and Spike have a little talk..

Old friends return! Old enemies return! There is much angst and worry! And.. fighting!

And confusion! And conflict of emotions! And.. and pie!

Er.. wait.. no pie..

Umm.. there is yelling! Lots of yelling!

I'm not really telling you anything here am I?

:more wicked grinning:

**

* * *

**

**Please Review!** If you took the time to read the thing (it's a long thing now isn't it?) you could please please please take a few seconds to review. I love comments. :)

* * *


	5. REPAIR

**CIRCLES**

CHAPTER FIVE : REPAIR

**

* * *

**

**AN:** If you haven't seen "DAMAGE" from Angel Season 5 you really won't get this chapter. Also, seeing "THE GIRL IN QUESTION" would help greatly too.

_

* * *

_

_Comfort's gone, the pain is too,_

_I'm numb – there is nothing left to feel._

_The shadows blind and swallow me,_

_I can't sort out the lies from what is real._

_Emotions flare, I'm crowded – drowning,_

_Memories and voices race throughout my mind._

_I can't hold on – I'm slipping, falling,_

_Into a madness that has no cure that I can find._

_I know the world around me, but I can't control it,_

_You're trying too hard to break me free._

_You can't understand so why bother?_

_Even blind, I will always see._

_You try to share the burden but you can never,_

_Don't waste your precious time, don't shed a tear._

_My world is gone, my life is broken.._

_I'm much too damaged to repair._

* * *

Dana.

The totally insane slayer whose parents had been murdered and who had been kidnapped and tortured by an equally raving psycho when she was only ten years old (this had, predictably, left her a little short of "all there" – so calling her totally insane was probably an understatement).

She was the basket case of unbelievable proportions that had murdered innocent people and had cut Spike's hands off and tried to kill him, about three months prior to this moment.

And she was sitting on his bed, watching him. She hadn't moved since he'd noticed she was there, and neither had he.

A mass of dirty black hair fell over and around a beautiful, if haunted, face. She watched him through her big brown eyes, so deep and yet so utterly filled with madness.

Spike was at a complete loss at what to do. So far they had just stayed still – watching each other. Spike was convinced she was here to kill him, and seeing as last time they had met she had very nearly succeeded, he didn't really feel like staying and letting her fight him. Something in his mind was trying to explain to him how she could be here, but the rest of him was too full of confusion and anxiety for him to be capable of listening to it. Putting all of those feelings behind him, realising that standing still like this wouldn't help, and remembering that he had on occasion come out best in spouts with slayers, he stepped forward.

She flinched.

"Um," he said apprehensively.

He couldn't think of anything else to say. He had come back to his apartment for a reason, but with the appearance of a dangerous lunatic, he had completley forgotten what it was.

She continuned to stare at him. "William," she said quietly.

"Uh.." he replied, staring at her. Last time she had remembered who he was she had grown particularly violent and then stabbed him in the neck with a syringe.

"Slayers," she said suddenly, looking up at the ceiling and then around the room wildly as though expecting them to pop out of the woodwork.

He stared at her. "Oh.. er.. yes..?"

"Slayers after me," she continued madly, "took me.. took me away. Tried.. to fix me."

She blinked, turning her eyes back on him, "I'm better now," she said.

"Oh.. well.. that's really.. um.." Spike tried to say "good", but he didn't quite make it. Dana didn't seem to notice.

"Better but.. still broken! I'm.. now.. it's all.. I can see everything!" she said, her eyes wide and unbelieving. She looked down at her hands.

"I'm lost," she said, tracing one palm with a finger. "They're.. always there. Blue.. broken.. pieces of a.. a.." she stopped and took in some short breaths, looking around again. "Everywhere.."

"Er.. right," Spike said, slowly moving forward again.

She stood up suddenly, sending him a few paces back in surprise. She tilted her head to the side and watched him suspiciously. "Always, and yet never," she said. "Time that tells a block is always coloured.."

"Mm.. well.." Spike replied nervously, "I see you've gotten a bigger vocabulary, that's.. that's good.."

"Training. Training and potions and.. stickers.. to help.." her eyes poured into him and she looked overwhelmed with grief and sadness. Spike felt a surge of pity for her. Her lip trembled as she spoke, "and now.. I can see."

"See? You.. you can see?" This was confusing. Spike began to worry how long they could keep up this coversation (if you could call it that) before she tried to kill him. Again.

"I.. I remember.. the.. death and blood and.. everything. I.. can see them.." she said, now clutching her sides, but continuing to stare deep into Spike's eyes. It was very unnerving.

"I killed them.. hurt them.. killed.. lots of.." her expression was full of pain, and as she looked at Spike he felt as though she was almost pleading for something. "Gave me just enough to.. make me weaker."

Suddenly she began to yell. "I'm the only one! But there are many! I didn't.. don't understand. I can't see because it hurts so much, but I can see what I left behind! Past.. past.. past midnight.. crazy.."

_Not wrong about that last part,_ Spike thought, watching her. Why had she come to him? To talk? To finish him off? Spike considered what he might try and do. He had to sedate or knock her out somehow. Short of tranquilizers he couldn't think of how to manage it.. and he didn't have tranquilizers.

"I.. I.. I'm not strong. In.. my mind. Brains all jumbled.. They.. I.." she shook her head, then looked back at him, and for a strange moment she appeared different than she had before, as though a small part of her sanity had somehow leaked through.

"Help me."

* * *

Illyria stood next to the mirror, holding a book in her hands. Gunn and Connor moved around Wesley's appartment, sorting things out.

Illyria had agreed to come with them, not even fully understanding her reasons for doing so. She had found his books.. books on her. Detailing her transformation and her history, and everything about her. She had found a diary, in which he had written about her, the things he had taught her and the progress he had made in caring for her. Developments and notes..

She noticed that not once did Wesley ever write Fred's name, or make any mention of her at all. This confused Illyria, but again she didn't understand why. It caused her considerable emotional pain though. An irritatingly large amount.

The last entry was the day before Fred's parents had come to Wolfram and Hart. He had written of her losing her powers, and how she had reacted to that.

It felt strange holding something that Wesley had once written in. Something of his. Would he have wanted her to keep it? Would it have embarrassed him? Did he ever really care for her?

_It was good that you came_.

He had said to her, before he had died in her arms. To her – not to Fred. Maybe he had cared for her.. if only a little. Did it matter now anyway? He was gone, and she was still here.

She looked around at all the books that lined the shelves and trunks. This would help Angel's cause, help them find whatever they were looking for. There were lots of things to find here.

Illyria was only looking for one.

* * *

"Help.. what?" Spike said, gaping at Dana.

"Help me. I.. its.. your.." she looked at him, "I.. I'm sorry.."

"You.. you're sorry?" he repeated in a bewildered, lost and slightly faint tone of voice.

She walked slowly towards him, and he retreated a little again. She stopped, "Don't be afraid. It doesn't.. it doesn't.. hurt.."

"If you hold still?" Spike said, "Yeah I.. I remember that."

Spike had backed into the kitchen bench. Dana approached him again, closing the gap between them. Spike felt trapped and a little panicked, but she didn't seem like she was going to attack him. At least not yet. She reached out and took his hands.

"Hands.. hands.. hands back? Touch?" she held them. Spike stood rigidly as she touched his fingers and his wrists, at a complete loss at what to do. He wasn't usually like this, but her presence made him extremely nervous. Especially at this proximity. He suddenly realised he was afraid of her. Not that he didn't have reason to be.. it just wasn't a very pleasant feeling.

She squeezed his fingers with hers, and her expression grew angry and she looked up at him, "Touch me? Touch again? You're.. going to hurt me again?"

"No. No!" Spike said quickly, "I.. I just.. I have these friends, well, more people I know – or knew as is the case now, and they fixed me – like your slayer friends.. er.. _fixed_.. you. I.. I won't hurt you," he said, knowing that if she threatened him it wouldn't be true.

Dana backed away from him. "Head.. and heart.." she said. "Another.. another shot of thorazine and I.. she might calm down. Try to help me. Try.. try..

"I'm sorry I broke your.. took your hands.. I'm sorry I.." she staggered back and sat on the floor, her black jacket falling open to reveal four or five wooden stakes hidden within the folds. Spike's eyes widened and he moved along the bench away from her. She looked up at him, her lips parting a little. She reached into her jacket and took out a stake.

Spike froze.

Holding the stake in her hands, she stood up. "Vampire," she said accusingly.

Spike stared at her, trying to decide what to do. Her eyes were so penetrating, and whenever she stared at him, any ideas or plans he was thinking of seemed to evaporate.

"Vampire.. head.. and heart.. you could do that.." she said, moving over to him, weilding the stake. "Could you do that? Vampire?"

"I.." Spike said slowly. "I'm a vampire. Yes."

She stopped and stared at him, looking sad and hopeless for a moment and then looking angry again.

"But I'm a good vampire," he said quickly.

She screwed her face up, "Lies, lies and not truths. Tell them about me and I'll find you. Shh.." she sneered angrily at him, shaking her head, "Murderer. You killed them.. I remember.." she said.

"I.. I did," Spike said, backing away further as she continued to advance on him, "but.. I'm.. better now. I'm.. I'm.. _fixed_! I.. have a soul.."

"Soul?" she repeated, still advancing on him.

"Yes, a soul. You've got one too! It's.. I don't.. I don't kill people anymore. I help people.. now.. I try to.." he started to trail off when he realised this wasn't working.

She lunged at him and he side stepped the thrust, throwing himself into the middle of the room. Dana turned around and faced him. "Evil," she said as she took after him again. "Stake the heart. Dust can't hurt me. Can't hurt anyone."

She ran at him, but he moved forward as she did and grabbed her hand with the stake in it, gripping her wrist until she dropped it. She gasped, staring at him accusingly for a moment. Then she punched him in the face with her other arm.

He let go of her wrist, and staggered back as she came at him again, kicking him in the stomach. He fell onto the ground and rolled away from her. He then pulled himself to his feet and held up his hands in peace as they began to circle each other slowly.

"I.. I don't want to hurt you, Dana," he said. "_I'm_ not a bad guy. I.. I'll try and help you. Like you asked me to remember? Please.. just.." he tried to talk but he realised it wouldn't work. Growing desperate he tried to think of something else to say.

"I'm weak," she said suddenly.

He stared at her.

"I.. can see.. faces.. people I.. I killed!" she cried.

Spike watched her for a moment, then slowly he nodded and said, "I can too."

Her expression was painful, "I.. I'm sorry.. I want.. I.." she looked at him, then she squinted, a tear cascading down her right cheek. "Spike?"

He stopped walking. "You.. you know my name?" he asked. She had memories of the two slayers he had killed, but seemed to know him as William the Bloody, rather than as his nickname. Then he remembered she had memories of all the slayers of the past. All those that had _died_. He had a sudden theory.

"You.. you have Buffy's memories of me?" he asked.

"Buffy.. Buffy is in Rome. Slayer. Leader of.. other slayers," she said softly. How the hell could she know that? Then Spike remembered she'd been treated by the slayers, and she had probably overheard it.

"Losing.. all.. my pieces.." she said, putting a hand to her forehead, "I want.. to.. stop seeing them.. It's so painful. I.. I.."

She gasped and then her eyes shot back at Spike, again angry and violent, "You killed me!" she yelled. "You killed me!"

"No, no I.." he started but she had thrown herself at him, knocking him over and then punching him hard in the face repeatedly.

Spike struggled with her for a moment and then rolled her over so that he was ontop of her, with the upper hand. He held both of her arms down onto the floor.

"Dana," he said, as she cursed at him in Romanian, "Dana I don't want to hurt you, but I'm going to have to if you keep attacking me."

"Little minx.." she said and snapped her teeth at him.

He managed to grin a little, remembering it was something he had called her. "Look," he said quickly, knowing he couldn't hold her there long. "I'm not the person you think I am. I'm not William the Bloody. I was.. but I've changed now. I have a soul, it makes me more human. Makes me understand and accept what I did and lets me choose not to do it again. I help people now. That's why you came to find me isn't it? Because there's a part of you that knows that. I'm paying for all those lives I took, all the people I killed. Like.. the slayers you remember.."

She stared up at him, her chin trembling. "People.. I killed.. I killed people.." she said. "I.. I'm becoming.. him.." she said, and revulsion and horror covered her face.

Spike felt another overwhelming swell of pity, "You don't have to be. You can.. try and.."

She didn't seem to hear him, and closed her eyes, shaking her head and struggling softly beneath him. Then she opened her eyes, seeing him ontop of her, she yelled "NO!" and headbutted him. He lost his grip on her and she pushed him off her. He fell back and then scrambled up, but suddenly felt pain in his face. He only vaguely registered that she had punched him again, most of him was just signalling that his cheek hurt. He tried to look back at her, but she punched him again.. and again and again. Finally she let up and he managed to look up at her. She was holding him down, and she had another stake in her hand, aiming it above his heart.

Spike had been in this situation a few times before, but it didn't get any easier. He didn't feel his whole life flash before him – it was a long life, and there wasn't really enough time. He just felt sort of numb, and confused. A few hours ago he had been completley bound up in thoughts of Buffy, and now he was about to be staked.

He had died before. Twice. That didn't really make him feel any better, or make this any simpler or easier. If she killed him now there would be no more coming back.

As he stared up at Dana's mad face, her decision holding his life in the balance.. he realised he didn't want to die. Not now anyway. Not like this. There were so many things..

He didn't want to go to hell. He knew that's where he was headed, if she decided to end him. He would burn.

It was painful, thinking about it now. He had never realised how good life was. Not that it was really very good, or that he was really _alive_ in the strictest sense. But life wasn't bad. Even if you were dead. Sure, un-life had its downs; the girl that he was in love with would never feel the same way about him; he was hanging around a guy that he hated most of the time; the only other girl he'd felt anything for since saving the world had died being taken over by an ancient blue demon; and he had to live with the burden that he had once been unbelievably evil. Not that he had worried a lot about that last part, at least not until Dana had turned up the first time and reminded him of who.. and what he really was. What he used to be. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, but well, it had done the trick. Made him a better person.

So his life wasn't all roses and chocolates, but it was still his life.

And, when it all boiled down to it, this life was a whole lot better than hell.

He suddenly realised he wasn't dust yet. He looked up at Dana, who was staring at him, wide eyed and hesitant. The stake was still hovering in the air between them, shaking in her hand.

"Spike," she said, her lip trembling and her eyes boring into him.

She put her left hand down onto his chest. "Soul.."

She dropped the stake and let go of him. He sat up slowly. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, as though wishing she was in a dark corner somewhere, unburdened by sorrow, terror or madness. Just alone and free of the nightmare.

"It's.. sorry. I.." she started and then stopped, tears falling down her cheeks and mingling with her messy hair. "Only trying to help you.. don't struggle.. it'll all be over soon.."

Spike moved away from her a little as she clutched her knees and rocked back and forth.

"They tried to fix me but I'm still broken.. still painful.. all my pieces lost and broken. Can't put them back together again.. all the kings horses.. but I just want to go home. There is no home.. it's so hard to see.." she whispered madly. "Don't want to go back. Don't want to be locked in again. Caged.. caged and I can't get out.. locked in.. always locked in.. there's no escape.. no escaping..

"See them all the time, always watching me, never letting me sleep. Never letting me hide in my cage. Cages.. cages are all I am.. I want to go home.." she sobbed. "Just let me go home! Mommy and daddy will find me then.. no more hiding.. no more running away.. just home.."

Between the vague references and strange quotes from her memory, Spike managed to see what she was really on about. She'd been kidnapped and tortured in a dark basement, then she'd finally escaped only to be institutionalized in a mental ward for fifteen years. Then she'd freed herself from there, only to be taken away again and locked up by Andrew and his gang of slayers. She wanted to be free, and he could understand that. Only she was a danger to herself and others when she was free.

"Don't want to go back.. going to send me back.. if they find me.. take me again.. blue and yellow and brown.. make me weak.. can't fight back.. all the walls.. the sky's not there! Where's the sky?"

Spike made up his mind. Although he knew he would regret it later. Perks of being a hero, he supposed.

"It's OK luv," he said, and she turned her eyes to look at him again, "they're not going to send you back. I won't let them. I'm gunna help you.."

She looked at him unbelieivingly, and he wasn't sure she had understood what he had said.

"Home?" she asked.

Spike looked around, "What, here?"

"No more running away?" she asked him softly, her eyes tearing into his soul.

"No, you're safe here," he replied.

"Safe. Safe. But they're watching me all the time! Can't be free! All the faces! Not safe!" she said wildly.

Spike ran a hand over his hair, this was going to be hard. None of this still made any sense, and he was at an utter loss as to what to do now. "Why are you _here_, Dana?" he asked her.

She looked at him in confusion, breathing heavily. "You know.." she said cryptically.

For some reason this almost made sense to Spike. She reminded him of all the horrible things he'd done when he was evil, and made him remember that he was still paying for it. Not that he would ever tell Angel that.

Now she also had that pain. Now that she had some vestiges of her sanity back, she could remember what she'd done, all the people she'd murdered when she'd escaped from the psychiatric ward. And it haunted her.

Maybe she knew he shared the same burden. Had seen it in him, seen his pain, all those months ago. How she could sense something that deep when she was buried in all those layers of insanity, Spike didn't know. Maybe it was a slayer thing.

Angel shared this burden more, Spike thought wryly. But Angel wasn't here. She had come to Spike for help. To _him._

"I do know," he said quietly, "and I'll help you.

You just gotta promise to stop trying to kill me."

* * *

"Alright, I think we've got everything that's going to be helpful. I.. I put some of his personal belongings into that box. Things I think he might have wanted us to keep," Gunn said quietly, his arms full of books, looking at Connor and gesturing to a large box that was on the floor next to the bed.

"So, I.. think we're done.. here," Gunn said, looking over at Illyria, who was still standing by the mirror. She was clutching what appeared to be a diary in her left hand and was staring at an open book on the bench in front of her.

Connor picked up the box on the floor, juggling another crate full of books under his arm. Gunn walked over to Illyria, looking down at the book she was reading. There was a picture of her, the real Illyria, in demon form on the right page. Underneath was a passage of scipt that Illyria was tracing with her finger.

"_The great monarch will rise again, born from a host of great valour and beauty, who will sacrifice their existence as their soul is consumed for the birth of the glory that used to be. The world will tremble and all will bow down before the power of the God King of the Primordium. Illyria will rule once more."_

Gunn read the passage then looked at Illryia, who was staring wide eyed at the book, her expression impervious. "We're going now. You coming?" he asked her after a moment. He didn't want to mention the book. Made him think of Fred, which was painful.

She blinked and looked at him. "I am," she said after staring piercingly at him for a couple of seconds. She turned on her heel and walked proudly over to the door and out of it, leaving the book open on the bench.

Gunn and Connor watched her go, slightly stunned by her abruptness.

"That was sudden," Connor said, hoisting his boxes up under his arms to stop them from slipping. The two of them followed her, Connor looked questioningly at Gunn. "She's very strange isn't she?"

Gunn nodded, his eyes narrowed, as they locked the apartment door and walked out into the corridor.

"And getting stranger.."

"These will help a lot. They're good," Angel said, looking up at Gunn, who had just brought in the collection of books they'd salvaged from Wesley's. "Well done."

Cordelia was quietly going through the box personal belongings whilst sitting behind the counter in the lobby. The others stood in the middle of the hall, looking at a few of the books and talking.

"I better go back now," Connor said. "It's getting kind of late and I promised my folks I'd stop coming home at crazy hours of the morning. Plus I still haven't finished my resume." He smiled at Angel.

Angel smiled back, surprised to find how easy it was, "Good luck with that."

"Thanks," Connor said. "Call me if anything big comes up."

Angel nodded. He still found it very strange that Connor was concerned with what they were doing. He'd told Angel he didn't really want to have much to do with the demon world - _Angel's_ world. He had a life now, a real life, and a real family. Why did he keep coming back here?

Connor shook his hand.

"See ya," the boy said, shook Gunn's hand too, smiled, and then headed out the entrance.

"Resume?" Cordelia asked Angel when Connor had departed, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," said Angel, grinning a little in a proud kind of way, "He's going to be a doctor."

Cordy made a happy all-knowing noise and turned back to what she was doing; Angel could be a real dork sometimes.

"So what happened with Illyria?" Angel asked Gunn after a little while.

Gunn shrugged, "I dunno. She was acting really odd.. and I mean more than usual. She was reading a lot of the books that Wes had lying around. The ones about her, all that glory of her kingdom stuff."

"Probably yearning for the good old days," Angel said.

Gunn made a face, "I didn't think so, but it's so hard to tell.."

Cordelia slipped off her chair and walked over to them. "Think we'll be able to get to the bottom of this Camarilla stuff now we've got some books?"

"If we've got the right books; hopefully. I don't see how we're going to stop whatever's happening from happening if we don't know what it is, or where to find it," Angel said, putting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully Spike'll find something else out too, maybe pick up a location.."

"Yeah, or maybe he's out drinking again," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes, "you know I still don't understand the whole story behind you and him sticking together."

"That makes two of us," Angel sighed.

"Not that I mind him being here, we need all the help we can get," Cordelia commented. Then she sighed, "God you'd think that saving the world'd get us a little breathing space don't you? I mean we've done it enough times by now. Hey, pretty soon we might have done it more times than-"

"Buffy," Angel said suddenly.

Cordelia frowned, "Well I was going to go with Superman, but hey-"

"No.. Buffy," Angel said, pointing.

Cordelia turned around, and sure enough, standing in their battle scarred doorway was the Vampire Slayer herself.

Buffy's hair was tucked up in a pony tail and she wore a long black leather jacket over a pink t-shirt and cream pants. She was looking around at the crumbling wall.

"Nice place you guys have here," she said, moving forward. She put her thumb back over her shoulder and gestured to the doorway, "What happened there?"

Angel was still staring at her as though he wasn't sure she was really there. After a moment he snapped himself out of it, "Uh.. Dragon."

She raised her eyebrows. "Long story," he explained.

"I don't doubt that," she said, then turned to Cordelia.

"Cordelia," she said, staring at her in surprise.

Cordelia sighed, "Yes I know, shocking as it is, you're not the only one who gets to return from death."

"No, I was going to say you had really nice hair," Buffy said.

"Oh," Cordy said. Then she smiled, "Thanks."

"Sorry, miraculous comings-back-to-life stopped shocking me a while back now," she said, then turned to Gunn, "Hi. I'm Buffy."

Gunn smiled, "I think I guessed that myself. I'm Gunn. Charles Gunn."

He held out his hand and she shook it, "Nice to meet you Mr. Charles Gunn," Buffy said, also smiling.

"Everyone just called me Gunn."

"Gunn it is," Buffy replied.

"What.. what are you doing here?" Angel asked her.

"Well I was in the neighbourhood.. and we agreed a long time ago that skulking around in each other's back yards without announcing one's presence was rude so – here I am," she held out her hands as though proving that she was really standing there. "How've you been?"

Cordelia answered the question. "Well everything's been pretty routine.. apocalypse last week.. dragon through the door.. hordes of demons.. the usual. Yeah, we're pretty good," she said fairly. "You?"

Buffy shrugged, "Oh same sort of thing. No dragons though. Slayers, actually."

"Oh?" Cordelia enquired.

"Yeah, that's why I'm in town. Got the whole team looking for our escaped slayer."

"Escaped slayer? You had a locked up slayer?" Cordelia asked.

"A crazy slayer. She's mad," Buffy explained. "We were trying to treat her, but she managed to escape and now she's on the loose. She's made it all the way back here from Mexico City, but we've almost caught her."

"Dana." Angel said, looking at Buffy.

"You remember?" Buffy asked.

"How could I forget? As I recall you stole her from me. Or, well Andrew did it for you," Angel replied crossing his arms, "said you didn't _trust_ me."

Buffy looked a little uncomfortable, but defended her reasons, "Yes well, when you started working for the planet's most evil corporation, next to Matel of course, I decided that your judgement might've become a tad _impaired_. Impaired like _blinded_."

"_My _judgement?" Angel came back, looking insulted, "Remind me – out of the two of us, which one is dating The Immortal?"

Buffy raised her hands in frustration, "It always comes back to whoever I'm dating doesn't it?"

"Well when it's The Immortal, yes!" Angel said.

Buffy crossed her arms. "How did you find out about that anyway? Have one of your lawyers look it up for you? Or maybe it was that guy that I beat up for following me around, not three weeks back?"

Angel shifted uncomfortably.

"Besides," Buffy continued, "You don't know The Immortal anymore! He's not the same person he was in the 19th century!"

"The hell he isn't! Did you know he was head of the Camarilla?" Angel asked loudly.

Buffy stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Of course."

Angel stared at her, his mouth falling open in shock. "You.. you knew? You knew and you're still going out with him?"

"Well.. yes..?" Buffy asked, clearly not understanding why this would be an issue.

"But.. Buffy.. they hate slayers!" Angel said almost desperatley.

"Well.. hate is such a strong word! I'd go more with.. 'are frightened of' slayers.. and frankly who isn't? We're a pretty intimidating bunch! And.. and The Camarilla are the only vampire sect that aren't totally evil!" she defended them.

"You want to bet on that?" Angel said flatly.

Buffy gave him a dead pan look, "I think we've got off topic here. Weren't we talking about the fact that you can't stand it whenever I'm with anybody that isn't you?"

They looked at each other. Buffy's expression turned a little guilty, "Oh.. I.. that was harsh.. I didn't.. didn't mean it like that.."

He nodded, looking down at the floor and adopting his usual brooding stance. Then he looked back up at her, "Buffy you shouldn't trust him. He's up to something, him and The Camarilla. You're not safe."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "When am I ever? And what makes you think they're 'up to something'? Got any proof to back up that ground breaking accusation?"

"My vision," Cordelia interjected, looking at Buffy as though she was a particularly large slimy creature that Cordy had every mind to step on. Cordy couldn't stand this whole Angel-Buffy forbidden romance thing. Who could? It was so annoying and.. frustrating.. and their bickering and those _looks_ they kept giving each other.. it all just made her want to hit things! Buffy-shaped-things!

Cordelia's blood was boiling with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

"Vision?" Buffy repeated.

"From the Powers That Be – maybe you've heard of them? Big shiny – other plane of existence? They give me visions, and the one I just got showed your toy boy and a whole bunch of other vampires, sitting around plotting something," Cordy told her as sweetly as she could manage.

Buffy blinked, "That doesn't mean it was evil. Or about slayers."

Cordelia snorted, "Yes because they-all-mighty just decided to let me in on the secrets of their latest board meeting! I'm sure they were discussing the new design of their logo and if they should use the red pen or the black pen when signing notices."

Buffy gave Cordy a dark look, and Angel shook his head. "Come in here and I'll show you what we've found out so far," he said, leading her into his office.

Buffy sighed and followed him in.

* * *

Spike came running in through the front entrance, and jogged down the steps. He looked around but couldn't see anyone in the immediate vacinity.

He stood at the base of the steps for a few minutes, thinking. He'd left Dana back in his apartment after giving her some food and promising her repeatedly he'd come back. All her talk of cages and being shut in had forced him to not lock the door on her.. and he was seriously doubting she'd be there when he got back. He was in a very strange position now, knowing that he had to help her in some way.. but not having a clue how to do it.

If the slayers, with all their resources, books and magic couldn't help her.. what could he possibly hope to achieve?

He certainly couldn't do it by himself. He called out.

"Angel?" he yelled. "Charley?"

There were voices from the office, and Spike made his way quickly over there, just as Angel came out.

"There you are. Look, something's happened and-"

Spike cut himself off mid sentence as Buffy emerged from the room behind him. He gaped at her. She gaped at him.

"Buffy," he said, every intelligent thought he'd been having seeping out of his mind faster than Cordelia at the check out of a shoe store with a full credit card.

Angel pursed his lips and crossed his arms, just as Buffy approached Spike.

"Buffy what are you-" Spike began, but was interrupted as she slapped him very hard in the face.

He staggered back.

"Wow Buffy, I didn't even know you slapped people. I thought you were all up for punching," Cordelia said from behind her. Gunn whispered, "Don't give her ideas."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Buffy demanded of Spike angrily, ignoring Cordy's snipe.

Spike put his hand up to his face. This wasn't the first time he'd been hit there today, and he was starting to feel a bit tender. He glared at her in shock, "What the hell's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? What'd I do to deserve that?"

Buffy looked furious. It was very intimidating. "What did you do! I'll tell you what you did!" she reached into her jacket and pulled out her phone. "Better yet I'll show you!" she said angrily, pressed a few buttons and then held the phone out.

A voice came out of the phone, static and distorted, but undoubtedly it was Spike's voice.

"_Buffy.. it's.. it's me. Erm.. Spike. Yeah! I know what you're thinkin'! I'm dead! Well.. I am dead.. but that's not what I meant.. I'm not dead dead anymore! I came back! Just after I went up in the.. in the.. the.. fire. Issn' that weird? I mean.. I dunneven know why I'm back. But here I am! Or.. well.. there I am.."_

Spike's voice was slurred and it was apparent to everyone that he had been drunk at the time of the phone call. Angel was smiling slightly, Spike was wincing with embarrassment and Buffy was still looking murderous.

"_..anyway! I'm calling to say that tonight I'm probably going to die. Yep. Again. Savin' the world again too! I mean.. I'm trying to.. save the world.. not.. actually it's more like suicide for honour and stuff.. but well.. uh.. mm.. I though' I shoo' let you know.. because.. well you know why.. don't you? Um.. yeah.."_

There was a clicking noise to signify that was the end of the message. There was a short silence. Gunn and Cordelia were standing behind Angel and Buffy, looking at each other and trying not to laugh.

"Well?" Buffy said. "Have you got some sort of explanation?"

Spike winced, "I'm sorry?"

Buffy made an exasperated noise, which was probably less fearsome than the outraged and incensed expression she had fixed on him. "It's been months Spike! Almost a year! A year of me thinking you were dead and then suddenly I get this message on my phone from you! A drunk, pathetic awful message that didn't explain anything and just left me feeling worse than before you'd called! Then I find out that _Andrew_ of all people already knew you were back, and that you'd been back for ages and still hadn't told me! Why the hell didn't you call me sooner? Let me know? I cried about you for ages and here you are! Alive and.. fine!"

Spike looked away, he certainly hadn't imagined this happening at their reunion. His face was burning, and not just from where she had hit him. When he finally spoke he found it both difficult and painful, and sincerely wished that there wasn't a crowd of people standing around watching him.

"Well.. I didn't.. look I had my reasons! It's.. complicated and.. hard to explain.. I couldn't just prance back in and say I was alive! It doesn't work that way! I don't work that way! I just.. I couldn't tell you earlier, and I'm sorry. I really am."

Buffy shook her head, now looking hurt. "You didn't care about me enough to let me know?"

"Oh hey you know that's not true," he said. "Besides you were doing great without me. The slayers.. Rome.. _The Immortal_.."

Buffy groaned, "Why does everybody have to bring him up?"

"Well, because it's The Immortal!" Spike retorted.

Angel rolled his eyes skyward, "I already tried it. Didn't work."

Spike looked at him, a hopeless expression beginning on his face, "What.. she's totally.."

Angel sighed, "Yep. She's gone."

Spike looked at Buffy, then back at Angel. He slumped his shoulders, "Not again.."

"I know," Angel comiserated.

Spike sounded like a ten year old boy robbed of his favourite lolly, "Why does it always have to end like this?"

"It's our luck. We're doomed," Angel replied. "I saw it on her face the moment I mentioned his name."

Spike shook his head, "Too late.. again. I still say we end him, that'd fix all our problems in one blow wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, 'cause trying to kill him has worked so well for us in the past. You do remember blood vengence, don't you?"

"How could I forget? The girls didn't talk to us for a month afterwards.. all that crap about how we shouldn't have tried to take him down. How we were immature. _Immature_!" Spike said in outrage, "Like we weren't manly enough for them.. not _immortal _enough."

Buffy was looking back and forth between Angel and Spike with an expression bordering on horror.

"Did either of you notice that I'm standing right here?" she asked flatly, then she squinted at them in suspicion. "And.. more importantly.. what the hell is going on?"

Angel looked back at her, "What?"

"You're talking! You're friends! You're.. you're together! The two of you!" she said stubbornly.

"We're not friends!" Spike said quickly.

"We're not _together!_" Angel said at the same time.

Buffy stared at them. "This is just too weird," she said quietly. "You hated each other."

"We still do!" Angel defended their relationship.

"It's a complicated.. thing. Long story," Spike explained.

"I thought you knew," Angel said to Buffy. He looked at Spike, "While you were leaving your drunk babbling message I guess you must have skimmed over the part where you were working for me."

Spike held up a finger, "I'm not working _for _you. I'm working _with_ you. There's a big difference!" Spike turned back to Buffy. "Like I said. Long story."

"He won't leave me alone!" Angel said suddenly.

Spike rounded on him, looking outraged. "Leave you alone? You keep needing my help!"

"Need your help? I don't need your help!"

"Oh really? What about that slug thing that was mixing with your brain? You'd be a vegetable now if it weren't for me!" Spike pointed out.

"Only because Lindsey _told you what to do_! He was feeding you crap trying to build you up like a big hero, _that you're not_!" Angel came back with.

"Oh really? I seem to recall you saying I was a hero! On more than one occasion!" he turned to Cordelia. "Remember when he called me a hero?"

Cordelia stared at him, "Yes, I do remember. That was right after you bit me."

"You're never going to let that go are you?" Spike said testily.

"Not ever. No," she smiled sweetly.

Spike turned back to Angel, "See!" he pointed at himself, "Hero."

"I saved your life too," Angel replied angrily. "Remember Dana? Remember her almost chopping your head off? And me coming to your rescue?"

Spike went deadly silent, everything that had happened to him this evening still too fresh to talk about.

"Dana?" Buffy asked. "As in the slayer I'm chasing right now?"

"The.. the what?" Spike asked, looking at her in shock. She was chasing Dana?

"Yes, she escaped. We're tracking her down. You know her too?" Buffy asked.

"She chopped his hands off and almost killed him," Angel said. "I'd say he remembers her."

Buffy looked down at Spike's hands. "She chopped your hands off?"

"Well.. I'm better now," Spike said somewhat awkwardly. "You're.. tracking Dana?"

"Yes, she's in the city. Don't worry though, we'll catch her," Buffy replied.

"How'd she escape in the first place?" Angel asked.

Buffy sighed, "She was responding really well to her treatment, so we had her in a lower security area. She took advantage of the freedom.. managed to escape."

"Oh," Spike said, his brain working furiously. "So.. er.. what will you do with her when you find her?"

"Take her back to Mexico. See what we can do to continue helping her."

"And.. the freedom she had before?" Spike said slowly.

"We won't be able to do that again for quite a while," Buffy said sadly, "It's unfortunate. According to the people working with her she looked like she was really starting to improve. I don't know everything, but she's our responsibility and we have to try and help her."

Spike nodded numbly. What was he going to do? Should he tell the others that he'd found Dana and she was back in his apartment? That would surely result in the slayers taking her away again. He remembered what she had said to him, _"Don't want to go back. Don't want to be locked in again. Caged.. caged and I can't get out.. locked in.. always locked in.."_

He would feel horribly guilty if he sent her back to them after promising he would protect and help her. But maybe it was what was best for her.. Buffy had said she had been improving with the care of the slayers.. what kind of help could he possibly hope to give her?

"Spike?" Buffy asked, worried by his long silence.

"What?" Spike asked looking up. "Oh, umm.. Look I've got to go, I'll.. be back later."

He turned and walked out through the caved in doorway again, only vaguely aware that everyone in the lobby was watching him go.

* * *

Buffy looked at Angel.

"That was strange," she said, blinking.

"Yeah, Dana has that affect on him," Angel replied. "She rattled him up quite a bit last time too."

Buffy frowned, "You don't think she'll want to come after him again do you?"

Angel shrugged, "He can take care of himself."

Buffy ignored his comment, "Maybe I should go with him.."

She continued to stare out the doorway after Spike. Angel looked miffed, and turned away, his eyes falling on the staircase, where Illyria was standing looking down at them.

"Illyria," he exclaimed, surprised to see her out of room. "Is.. er.. are you alright?"

She started down the steps towards them, keeping Angel locked in her gaze. Once she reached the group however, her eyes travelled to Gunn, then to Cordy, then finally to Buffy.

"I do not know you," she said, peering at the slayer. She turned to Angel. "Who is this?" she demanded.

Buffy looked a little taken back, she turned to Angel as well. "Mutual question," she said.

"Oh.. um," he said, gesturing at Buffy, "Illyria this is Buffy, the vampire slayer. Buffy this is-"

"I am Illyria," the blue haired woman interrupted proudly, "God-King of the Primordium. I am superior to all mortals and those who dare oppose me face desolation and destruction in the most violent and merciless manner possible. I install fear into the hearts of the weak and brave alike, and even reduced to the human form I have become," she turned to glare at Angel, "I can still turn the most foulest enemy to a groveling withered husk."

Buffy blinked. "Nifty," she said after a pause.

"You.. seem to be better," Angel commented, noting that all the days of seclusion had resulted in a spectacular return of the old Illyria. Gunn was not convinced however, and watched Illyria suspiciously. Her eyes betrayed her inner emotions – and how most of this was just put on for show. She had another agenda.

Illyria looked away from Buffy and back to Angel. Then she looked around, as though trying to remember why she was there.

"Illyria?" Gunn questioned her, the concern in his voice bringing her back to the here and now.

She curved her head up in a graceful arc and dilated her nostrils. She looks around at them and said matter-of-factly, "There is fear.. dissention in this place. I can feel it."

Angel raised his eyebrows, "Can you be any more specific?"

"Specifics are for the lowly, and for now there is no need of them," she said, her blue eyes flickering in the light.

"Er.." Buffy said, looking uneasily at Angel.

"Something is wrong," Illyria said quietly, as if almost to herself.

"What is it?" Angel asked, looking at her with curiosity. She was behaving strangely, but after Wesley's death, none of Illyria's moods could be taken for granted. She was far too upredictable.

She did not reply further, she only glared imperiously at him, before leaving them, heading back up towards her room again. On the way up the stairs she stopped briefly, taking hold of the railing to support herself. A great weight swept over her, and for a moment she felt very cold and alone. A tear slipped from her eye down her cheek as she clutched the rail next to her with intense force, as though her very existence depended on that strength to hold on. It only lasted a moment though, and just as quickly the feeling had passed, and she was back to normal again. She took a deep breath, recovering and continuing on her way, the others below not noticing her stumble.

* * *

As Spike had predicted, Dana was not in his apartment when he returned. A swell of frustration coursed through his body as he stood in the middle of the small flat, hands on his hips, deciding what to do.

He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't asked for any of this. To help people, to be a _good guy_.. to have this damn responsibility! He sure as hell hadn't asked to have Buffy rage and storm at him just because he was alive either!

Spike turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. He couldn't stand here mooning about it now, Dana was gone, and it was his responsibility to find her. He had got himself into this mess, and it was up to him to sort it out. He was going to help her,_ and_ he was going to have to do it by himself.

He could track her scent easily enough; the whole room smelt of her.. hell _he_ smelt of her. It was just a matter of her getting away from him before he had time to find her.

It was strange, but as he picked up her trail, leaving the building and heading out onto the street, he felt almost betrayed by her abandoning him. Sure, he had left to go talk to the others, but he made sure she understood he would be coming back! She had come to him for help, why run away again?

Spike rolled his eyes at his musing. What a stupid thought.. why run away again? Why do any of this? The girl was totally mental, and not exactly the most predictable type. She didn't have anything stable to grasp hold of.. no family, no comfort, no support. She was a loose canon, a falling star.. totally devoid of rationality and sense.

But even as he thought that he knew it wasn't true. There was a part of her in there that _was _trying to find some sanity, there were just too many layers of pain and suffering drowning it out. It was a tragedy, Dana's life.. and such a waste. All her crazyness, fury and pain were brought about by the act of one evil person. The man that had killed her family and tortured her so much that the escape of insanity was too good to refuse. She had tipped over, and since then lead a horrible, dark and atrocious existence, made all the more chaotic by the visions and memories of past slayers.. demons.. murders.. death..

It was too much. He could understand that, and he wanted to save her.. _fix_ her.. make her whole again. Even if there seemed to be no hope, he had to _try_. The girl was alone, and always would be, even surrounded by people that were trying to help her.. but that didn't make her life pointless. Dana had _him_ after all.

Spike.. William the Bloody.. vampire with a soul, out to save a crazy slayer, who had tried to kill and maim him. Truly ironic. And.. truly rediculous. Spike shook his head; these sideways thoughts were not helping his hunt. He had to find her.

He followed her scent through streets and down alley's until he reached a crappy looking night club, blaring terrible music up through the front entrance. Spike had a horrible stab of worry about what could happen if Dana interacted with other people. He stood out the front of the building, a myriad of other people's fragrances confused his senses momentarily. He wasn't sure if she had gone inside, or continued off down another street. The trail was particularly distorted because there was one intense smell overwhelming all the others. Smoke. Cigarette smoke.

Spike looked around to see a tall black woman leaning against the night club's wall, the fag hanging losely between her fingers, a curl of smoke sweeping the air around her. She was the only one around, and she was watching him with considerable interest. He squashed a brief impulse to yell at her. He would be able to pick up Dana's trail again, he wasn't _that_ inept at tracking, it was just that the delay might cost him time. Time he didn't have.

The woman continued to stare at him, but that probably wasn't so surprising. There wasn't much else to look at. She was very attractive, Spike noticed after a second glance, although she was dressed like a tramp from a bad private detective film. He moved over to her.

"Hey, uh, you wouldn't have seen a girl come past her would you?" he asked, only after saying it realising how stupid the question sounded.

She smiled in a saltry kind of way and tilted her head, "Lots of girls come past here," she replied, still eyeing him with a hungry expression.

"Uh, yeah of course. Um.. she has long dark hair.. and I guess it's kinda curly.. she's about this tall – and she's wearing a long black jacket, a.. mm.. sort of baggy white t-shirt and dark blue jeans," Spike elaborated, hoping wildly that he might get a lead. The girl's eyes widened for a moment, before she shrugged casually and moved away from the wall.

"I haven't seen anyone fitting that description tonight," she said, walking closer towards him, that seductive smile back in place again. "But if you've lost your girl, maybe I can offer a good.. replacement? My name's Teresa."

Spike raised an eyebrow, for a short moment almost tempted. But he resisted.. the bimbo was obviously a hooker, and he really hadn't sunk _that_ low. Plus, he had another girl to worry about.

"Uh, sorry," he said, and moved off down the street to her left, hoping to pick up Dana's trail again, and if not go into the night club and look there.

To his great annoyance, the skanky lady followed him. "Oh come on sugar, you don't need to go home unsatisfied," she persisted, "You're not from around here, are you? You sound.. British."

Spike didn't turn around, but he could feel her advancing on him from behind. God, was he really that attractive? Or maybe she just hadn't got her night's quota yet.

"I was from England, but I've been living here for quite a while now," he replied, as he searched the air for traces of Dana.

"How long?" Teresa asked quiety, having almost caught up to him.

_There_.. a hint of Dana's scent! She hadn't gone into the club after all, she had come this way. And.. the smell even seemed fresher than the trail he had been following earlier.. maybe he was catching up on her?

"Oh.. a while," Spike said somewhat distractedly to the black woman, still not turning around. He began to start jogging again, but she circled around to stand in front of him. She put a hand on his chest and leaned in next to him.

Spike groaned and pushed her away, "Look. I'm sorry lady, no offense intended, because you're not bad looking, but I just don't need a ride around your pants right now. So could you just back off? Maybe go and try the bar again? I'm sure there'd be someone there quite willing to throw you down and rip all your clothes off."

She raised her eyebrows, but didn't look taken back or insulted. Quite the contrary, she looked mildly amused. She tilted her head, smiled.. and punched him in the face.

He staggered back.. she hit pretty damn hard! "Ow!" he said under his un-breath, massaging his jaw, "Why is everyone hitting me today?"

He turned around to face her, "Jeez, I said I was sorry! What you get this aggressive with everyone who turns you down?"

She grinned and changed her stance so that she was standing like a fighter, ready to attack him. "Only the vampires," she said sweetly.

He stared at her, his brain working very fast to put everything together. Then he swore and threw his hands up, "God, why me?"

"It's just the way of the world, sweetheart. You're evil, and I gotta put you down. Your number had to come up sooner or later.. are you really that surprised?"

A bloody vampire slayer. This was going to cost him lots of time.. time he didn't have. Spike was royally shitted off. This was just too much. Everything was just.. too much.

He faced the slayer, obviously waiting for him to make the first move. "Look," he said, his temper taking hold of him and the anger seeping into his voice, "I'm not _evil._ I have a soul. And no, I don't want to explain it to you, and I don't really give a toss if you don't believe me, because I've got better things to do than stand around and fight you."

Teresa rolled her eyes, "A soul? What you think I'm a moron? Besides, you won't be that delayed anyway, I'd wipe your blonde ass out in less than five minutes."

"I really doubt that," he said testily as he glared at her. "And actually, I do think you're a moron. What the hell kind of way of picking off vampires was that? Seducing me? I mean really! I could've bitten you like fifty times if I'd wanted to. Which I didn't, because like I said – I'm not evil."

She glared right back at him, "I just can't believe you on that. But I promise, that after I stake you, if I've made a mistake, I won't stand around and cry about it."

"You'd never be able to stake me anyway," Spike came back, crossing his arms. "You're greener than next door's grass! Crappy technique, hesitation.. I really oughta report you."

She paused, now looking unsure, "Report me?"

"To the other slayers," Spike said. "I mean, they're all here aren't they?"

"How do you know that?" she gasped, her eyes wide.

"Heard it from the top. You're searching for Dana," Spike stated matter-of-factly.

"Heard it from.." she repeated softly, bewildered at his knowledge and at the possibility that he might be telling her the truth.

"Buffy," Spike finished for her.

Her eyes widened, "Oh.. I.." she said and then her mouth opened and she stared at him like she had only just seen him. "You're.. Angel?" she asked in what almost sounded like awe.

Spike's expression was horrified.

It took a moment to recover from this insult beyond insults. "No! God – what – NO! No I'm not bloody Angel, I'm bloody Spike!" he yelled angrily, pointing to himself. The thought that Buffy had told all her new recruits about her _precious_ Angel, and hadn't bothered to mention the _other_ vampire with a soul, was very painful indeed.

Teresa put her hands up to rest behind the back of her head, "Oh! But.. I thought he was dead! Died closing the hellmouth, up in Sunnydale."

"I did!" Spike said, somewhat relieved that she knew who he was. "But then I came back! There was this whole thing with a necklace, and mail and.. god, I spent three whole months as a _ghost_ in this horrible building while I-" he stopped, realising she was hanging on every word.

Odd. Three minutes ago she was dead set to kill him, and now she looked about ready to ask for his autograph.. funny world.

He shrugged casually, "Anyway, I'm fine now.. and.. I have to go."

Teresa, eyeing him with a scary expression again, making him feel like some sort of celebrity asked, "Why do you have to go? What's so important that you couldn't stay and fight me?" She crossed her arms, but not in a threatening manner, "Is it Dana? You described her before didn't you? Is.. have you _found_ her?"

Spike watched her for a moment, considering very carefully what to say, "No. I'm looking though."

Teresa looked slightly suspicious again, "Then why were you in such a hurry, and why are you here?"

Spike inwardly wanted to yell in fury, but he composed himself well and smiled slightly, "I only just heard she was in town. I knew her from before you slayers caught her, so I figured I might look around for her, the places.. she knows."

Teresa's suspicion faded again, Spike wanting to scold her momentarily for being such a brainless trusting dolt, but figured it would be a very stupid move, _and_ that she wasn't worth the effort. She said, "So you can help us find her?"

"Uh.. I've already talked to Buffy, if you want more advice, go find her. Me, I work better alone. Now I really have to go, so – I'll see you," he said finally, and took off at a jog down the street. She let him go unchallenged, and he didn't bother to turn and find out what she had decided to do. As long as she left him alone, he really didn't give a damn.

Dana's scent was still fairly fresh, which was a relief – all that time with that newbie slayer, Spike was sure the scent would be stone cold by now. Spike moved stealthily around a corner, his senses alert and ready to pick up even the slightest hint that she was nearby, when he was confrunted with a surprising vision.

Dana sat sitting in the middle of the small street, waiting for him. He pulled up, for a moment totally confused by this spectacle. Then he recovered and moved slowly towards her. "Dana?"

She looked at him sadly, her face wet from tears and her bottom lip crumpled under her top one. "No escaping?" she asked him, one hand clutching her white shirt, where he could see a stain of red. She was bleeding!

He hurried over to her, for a moment forgetting she was fragile and jumpy, and simply wanting to make sure she wasn't going to die on him. She flinched slightly when he squatted down next to her, but didn't make any real attempts to attack him or run away. "What happened?" he asked, gently reaching for her bloodied hand. She pulled away from him, her eyes flashing with anger and madness, despite the obvious pain she was in.

Spike backed off slightly. "Dana," he said, looking at her stomach, "I can help you. Just let me have a look.."

She glared at him and swore furiously, pushing herself backwards on the ground with her bloodied hand, away from him. "Touching me! They come for me, taking what's mine. Leave me. Always leave me. I'm alone but it's so crowded!"

"I know," Spike agreed to her babbeling, and gently began to reach out to her again. She faultered, her eyes wide and sad all of a sudden, the rage gone. _Talk about your mood swings_, Spike thought. "It's OK darling, I won't hurt you. We'll get you fixed up. Fixed? Remember fixed?"

Tears dripped down her cheeks and she shook her head, "I'm afraid. I'm so weak.. I'm afraid."

"Everybody gets afraid, it's alright," he said softly, trying to move closer to her still. He could tell that her injury must be pretty bad, judging from the amount of blood that covered her clothes and hands. The smell was so strong too – it was almost overpowering.

"Who did this to you?" Spike asked, blinking to try and clear his senses.

She didn't reply, she only stared at him, shaking slightly. She was beginning to lose conciousness.

_Oh, bugger this!_

Spike let out a grunt, moved right over to her, and looked at her wound. She shuddered and tears fell down her face. "Made it this far, but couldn't find the light. So much darkness, and the world is ending. Falling falling.. we'll all be gone and there'll be no one left to block the way," she cried softly, her voice fading as her conciousness slipped from her.

It was a bad wound. Definatley made by a knife, and she had lost a lot of blood. A _lot_ of blood.

"Only me," she said thickly and then coughed, and spittle of blood appearing next to her lips. "Only me.."

Then her head titled to the side and her eyes closed and she went limp in his cradling arms.

"Oh no, don't you die on me!" Spike muttered angrily, standing up and lifting her with him. He took off at a run down the street, holding her as gently as possible, his hand pressed over the gash to try and stem the flow. "..Don't you die on me.."

* * *

Illyia knew what was happening now. At least she thought she did.

She should feel terrified, furious or at the very least confused. She should feel _something_.

But she didn't. She felt nothing, except perhaps a strange feeling that this was supposed to happen. This was the right thing..

* * *

Cordelia opened her door and walked into her bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights, she knew where everything was now. It was funny, living in the hotel. She missed her apartment in some ways, but in other ways, she liked being here. Even if she was occassionally reminded unpleasantly of the possession-higher-evil-thingo.. thing.

Cordy stepped over to her bed and sat down. She sighed, and thought of Angel. Stupid vampire, she thought angrily. Then she felt guilty. She was being very bitchy all of a sudden. She was just anxious, that had to be it. Anxious about Willow, Kennedy and Eleanor.

And about her vision. Mm..

Then someone touched her shoulder. Cordelia let out a frightened shriek, which quickly turned to her backing away frm the bed and over to the door to turn on the light.

Connor sat on her bed, an apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry," he said quickly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to get her breath back. She then opened the door and stuck her head out into the corridor. "Everything's fine! Sorry!" she yelled down the hall then closed the door.

She looked back at Connor. "What are you doing here? Didn't you say you needed to go home?"

Connor shrugged, "I went home. But then I came back. I needed to talk to you."

Cordy nodded slowly and went to sit next to him. "What's up?" she asked him in what she hoped was a comforting voice; he seemed troubled.

Connor's expression was even more troubled now, poor kid. He began to speak, although he seemed uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "I.. I'm confused about things. It's.. I'm not sure what I'm doing now, with my life. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. I don't know what to do," he said quietly.

Connor looked at Cordy strangely, like he wanted to explain it better, but couldn't find the words. She reached over and put her hand on his, only briefly considering what this gesture might mean to him. But it wasn't uncomfortable. There wasn't anything in his touch or in the way he looked at her that said he still felt anything other than friendship for her. She was relieved, for she wanted them to be friends, and didn't want anything uncomfortable from the past to come between them. Connor still felt in a way like a son to her, and thinking of him, _remembering him_ in any other manner just didn't seem right. It didn't seem like reality, and they both understood it – even if neither of them discussed it.

"You know," Connor said, breaking the silence as he tried to attempt the effort of putting his feelings into words. "When I got my memories back, it was really scary. I had all this stuff just dumped on me, and I was these two separate people trying to co-exist. Then suddenly I was me again – but I didn't even know who "me" was. Which one I was.. or wanted to be. Instinct took over and I just reacted. I _killed_ Sarjohn. So easily, so quickly. And then I was.. just there, with the axe in my hands. Everything was so.. unbelievable and unreal. And then Angel was there, and Wesley and.. it was like I'd been thrown back into the past as a different person! And standing there, with him looking at me.. I was so afraid that once I got back to my family, my parents, my sister.. I'd think that everything was.. fake. I was afraid that their love for me.. it wasn't real love, and that nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would be _true_ anymore – I'd question everything, what was real and what was fabricated, because my whole life had been this fantasy created by someone else. And because none of it had really happened.. I'd be living this forced lie."

His words came out in a rush, almost as though he felt that if he stopped and paused through his explanation, he would never again be able to say what he was feeling. His face was filled with emotion as he spoke, Cordelia almost sharing in it – his words were so intense. He took a shuddering breath, then smiled slightly. "But it wasn't. I got back with my mom and my dad.. and they were.. everything was normal. I didn't feel like they weren't my parents.. we were still a family. I still felt.. _fine_ I guess. I am that person that lived all those years with them, and has all those memories. I am _him,_ and they love me for who I am."

Connor looked up at Cordelia, his eyes almost apologetic. "But I am also someone else. I try to deny it, because it's easier to be the normal everyday well adjusted boy who's going to be a doctor than to.. even think about the other side of my life. But that doesn't make it go away. I.. I bought some books from this magic shop near my ex-girlfriends place, because I didn't want to be ignorant of the world around me. But it wasn't enough, I still.. I'm not so connected as we were, back when.. before."

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed again, this time not looking in her eyes when he spoke again.

"The day Angel came to see me in the coffee shop.. I thought I had decided what I was going to do. I was happy living my life, keeping in touch from a distance and letting the others do the fighting. I'm not a champion, no matter what everyone else might like to think. I told Angel I didn't want back in. I wanted to cut myself off.. because I was afraid of the other side of myself.. and I figured that there were enough of you to defend the world.." he smiled briefly.

"So why did you come back?" Cordy asked him after a moment of silence.

Connor rubbed his tongue over his lips briefly, pausing before he spoke. "I.." he said, and then stopped and decided to say something else. "I needed to make sure we weren't all going to die." He laughed shortly, but Cordy could see part of it was to relax his nerves. "I mean, I trust you all but-"

"Connor," she interrupted. "That's not the real reason."

His eyes were betraying him. He faultered and sighed. "I.. I couldn't.. I had to make sure.."

Cordelia squeezed his hand, and gave him a knowing look. He couldn't leave Angel; she understood that. Too well.

"I had second thoughts," Connor continued, "I.. decided that it wasn't fair on him, it wasn't fair on the others.. it wasn't fair on _me_ – to just abandon that other part of my life. I know what Angel did, giving me my family and a childhood and everything.. was to save me and give me a better life. And I'm gratefull.. he knows that.

"It's just – I'm still two people. Both of those people want to be with my family.. but neither of those people knows just who's in that family. Cordy.. I.."

He closed his eyes. "Angel's the only person who's every truly loved me. And I mean.. _truly_ loved me – whatever form I was in – both sides of my life. All my life, he's loved me. He's my father. I.. can't just throw that away, and I can't just.. see him every ten months or whatever when the world's ending. I may not like it – but your world exists too – you all.. you do the bravest and most honourable job in the universe. You protect people even when they don't know it, despite all the risks and demands and sacrifices. No matter how hopeless things get, you try anyway, just because you're the only ones who can! You keep on fighting.. even when everything else turns to dust and your backs break and you're bodies scream at you to give in.. you keep on fighting. You have that strength and that courage to defend what you believe in.. and that's the most important thing I can think of. And I'm a fool for ever wanting to cut myself off."

"You're not a fool Connor," Cordelia said softly.

"No? It seems that way sometimes, for lots of reasons. I can't ever seem to do the right thing. Part of me can't believe I keep coming back here.. the other part is glad. I think I'm decided now, but will I ever really know for sure? I was convinced that I shouldn't be a part of this. And then I was convinced I had to be.." his eyes glistened and he was confused again. "I don't know what to do."

"Love makes people do foolish things," Cordelia replied.

Connor shuddered with a weight he felt inside himself. "I don't think I could ever tell him. Despite all those times he told me.."

Cordy reached over and hugged him tightly. She couldn't think of a reply to that. It was between Connor and Angel, and only time would tell what would happen.

* * *

Spike ran down the street, trying to keep Dana as steady as he could and move as fast as possible at the same time. It was raining slightly; gentle flecks of water cascaded across his cheeks as he sprinted, and dampened his hair. If his heart could beat he knew it would've been thumping madly against his chest. Spike didn't like being confused, and confusion was all this day had brought him. He still didn't really know where to take Dana. Hospital seemed the obvious answer, but what if she woke up and went nuts and tried to kill everyone? Should he go back to Angel's, who would undoubtedly turn Dana over to the slayers, even if they managed to save her.. but would she have wanted that? He didn't think so, but if she was dying he might not have another option. Maybe he could fix her up himself – get out of this environment, see how bad things were. Oh but if she was really botched up then he'd just lose time and he might lose her life too.

He clenched his jaw angrily. Morality was really annoying.

Suddenly he felt something on his cheek, and became dimly aware that Dana was awake and had reached up to touch his face. He stared at her, and felt his feet beginning to slow down, so shocked he was that she had regained conciousness.

"Don't turn out the light. I don't like the darkness," she said softly, staring into his eyes. "I'll be fine. Don't put me in the cages. I'll be fine."

"But you've lost so much blood-"

"I'll be fine. You're not alone, are you?" she said strangely.

"What? Am I.. what do you mean?" Spike was confused, even though her words were easier to understand when she wasn't angry-crazy.

"We're all going to die anyway," she said softly. "Everyone's already left me behind. It'll be better."

Spike shook his head, "No – no we can fix you – make you stronger and whole again. I can fix you, I promised I would kid, and I will."

Her eyes glistened with tears, "It's too late now. I'm already gone – I've been gone for so long.. no more.."

"No! You're not gone! Not yet, not now and you're not going to! I know death much better than you do, and it's not the easy way out you want it to be. You're not giving up, because I won't let you. Whether you understand that or not, it's the way it is."

"Knight's come to save me," Dana said sadly, but smiled a little.

"The night? Erm, yes, it did. Which means absolutley under no circumstances will you be going into the light. Understand?" he told her, hearing things out loud rather than seeing them written down sometimes making all the difference. "..sometimes darkness is good for you."

"But not always," she said. She seemed much more co-herent when she was dying. Not that she was dying! Or going to die, dammit!

"My feet can't touch the floor. Tinkerbell's dust is in my skin. It's making me float," she murmered.

"I'm carrying you."

"Is that enough?"

"I don't know," Spike murmered. For the first time he was really talking to her. He didn't know how, or why or even if he really understood what he was saying, but he knew it helped.

"I think it is. For the knight is cold and dark, but he still comes to save me. The light just can't compete."

Spike smiled, "I've always thought of night as female, but I guess that's just me."

"Just you? I've read a lot of books," she said randomly. "Lots.. and lots of books.. this isn't a fairytale.."

Spike said, "No, not really" just as she fell asleep. Not unconcious. Just asleep. He carried her home after that, and bandaged her injury. It wasn't as bad as he had feared, but she had still lost a lot of blood, and would be weak for a while afterwards. He would care for her, make sure she would recover, and then he would find the sons of bitches that had hurt her, and make them pay. And he would cure her. Help her find the sanity that she longed for, and which also tormented her with images of her horrible memories. He didn't know how, but he would find a way. He would save her, free her.

He felt responsible for what had happened to her, he couldn't help it. Not just her injury tonight, but everything else. She had thought he was the man who had hurt her and killed her parents. He wasn't, but he'd done worse to other people, and this was part of the price he payed. Atonement.

**

* * *

**

**End Chapter**

**

* * *

**

**Author Notes: **It's been a while yes? Sorry. This is my favourite chapter so far, what did you guys think? Weird much? Yes. Yes it is weird. Spike's a little OOC towards the end here, maybe, but not without reason. See the end of Damage, where he's talking to Angel, and you'll see why I think he'd be like this. Plus, it's fun to write. MWAHAHAHAH!

Ok, sorry.

I like Dana, she's going to make very interesting dialogue; not that she already hasn't. She was much more sane in the last part here, but there are reasons for that.

* * *

**Next chapter:**

Showdowns, angst, love, pain, blood.. more miraculous appearances of old friends (and enemies). The Immortal. More slayers. The answers to the vision - and what's really going on.. And shipping – or more correctly – horrible love triangles that have more than three sides.. ok - horrible love _dodecahedrons_ that really aren't so horrible, but simply tragic and romantic, in true Joss Whedon honourage. He loves his tragic romances doesn't he? Because love can't be boring if you're writing about it. And nothing is less boring than pain, loss, self sacrifice and valour.

Also next chapter there's a bigger focus on his eminence, Angel.

Cuz there hasn't been enough yet really, has there?

**

* * *

Please Review!** You have no idea how much reviews mean to me. :grovels: Pleeeease?

* * *


	6. TRAPPED

**CIRCLES**

CHAPTER SIX: TRAPPED

**

* * *

**

**Notes:** This chapter is for **Louvil**, who's in depth review (constructive criticism much appreciated!) motivated me to post! I hadn't finished the chapter until I read your review, and was finding it hard to fill this gap I hadn't yet been able to fill. You inspired and encouraged me greatly, so here's my big thank you! This chap is probably not the best it could be, but I guess it's better than nothing :)

Also, what I said at the bottom of last chapter, as far as what is in this chapter had pretty much all changed, or been post-poned for later chapters. Woops :P

* * *

Heather Islington glanced across the room at the other slayers, frowning. It was a nice hotel, she supposed; it would've been very disappointing if they had had to stay in some place _sub-standard_. With the amount of donations from many of the girls families, as well as the constant funding from their business, it wasn't like they couldn't afford it.

Heather, at the ripe old age of 41, was the oldest Slayer that had so far been recruited into T.C (which was the squeezed down version of "The Chosen" although the general populace were told it stood for "Team Care" – as their public front was an organisation that helped disadvantaged girls to get back on their feet). Heather was, before she had suddenly discovered her hidden supernatural powers almost a year ago, a psychological expert, specializing in human behaviour. She had been the one leading the research and treatment of Dana, and it was her fault the girl had been allowed to escape.

Heather took a deep breath and shook her head slightly; she tried not to think about that. Guilt was a distracting emotion in a situation like this. They had to find their rogue slayer, and from all reports she had stopped running here in L.A. and had settled down somewhere within the city. Heather had just finished going over the latest reports from the scouts they had sent out around the city. She had taken it upon herself, following the failure back at the centre in Mexico, to take a lead in this investigation.

The door opened, and Buffy Summers, the oldest serving slayer, entered the room. They had already begun discussion, but as Buffy commanded a certain level of respect amongst the slayer community the talk ceased when she joined them. They filled her in on the information recovered so far, which had been reasonably unhelpful, and waited to hear her news.

Buffy frowned slightly before speaking; cradling a cup of hot chocolate that one of the other girls had brought her. "I went to see some old friends in the city, but they hadn't heard anything about Dana."

Katie Teo, a 22 year old from Australia, leaned across the table. "You look bothered Buffy, what else did you find out?"

Buffy smiled at Katie, but she looked slightly irritated. "Can't hide anything here can I?" she said, then bit her lip thoughtfully. "No, it's nothing really. Just things have changed, people – it's.. it's nothing."

Then her expression changed, as though she had remembered something completely different, she frowned again, this time looking specifically at Heather, "And why didn't anyone tell me about Dana and Spike? I mean, she tried to kill him last time she was here, wouldn't that put him in danger now? Why wasn't I told about all that?"

"Spike" or William the Bloody.. one of Buffy's vampire boyfriends.. Heather suppressed an urge to give her honest opinion about Buffy and her vampire lovers; "souls" or no. She knew now was not the time, if there was ever a time to stand up to "the original" slayer. So she shrugged, and said as politely as she could manage, "I thought perhaps, given your past history, you might have a clouded opinion on the subject."

Buffy blinked in surprise, recovered and then gave Heather a very sharp look. "Oh you thought that did you?"

Heather bowed her head, "I apologize if I've offended you. We didn't consider the information that relevant, our sources told us that the vampire was under the protection of Wolfram and Hart."

Buffy, who still looked pissed off with Heather, crossed her arms, "Your sources need updating. Wolfram and Hart have been destroyed."

There was a murmur of interest and surprise around the room. Buffy raised her eyebrows, "I would've thought we might have picked up on that already. What with the buildings falling down.. the huge bad demon presence being kicked and – oh yeah – the prevention of an apocalypse. Aren't we supposed to be the "it" on these topics?"

Katie, who was a bit lacking in brains but had a good heart, grinned lopsidedly at Buffy "Well we are now aren't we!" she said enthusiastically, "You've just told us. Good job Buff!"

Buffy didn't look placated and still directed herself at Heather. "Oh and _that vampire_ would probably be a very good place to start looking for Dana, I would've thought. Wouldn't she want to come after him, seeing as she believed he was the one who killed her parents?"

Heather restrained herself from looking supercilious before replying. "During treatment, it was plain to us that Dana had separated herself from this particular notion. She knew the name of her assailant, as provided by.. what's his name – that other vampire you were with – Angel. She knew he was dead, and she knew all her emotional damage was not caused by William the Bloody."

"Sounds like a lot of rationality from an insane person," Buffy commented.

Heather sighed and looked down at the table, "Well she was beginning to improve. We all saw that."

There was a small silence; tensions were running high among The Chosen of late. Dana, and this whole situation, evoked confused emotions in everyone, but especially the slayers.

The door opened again, and Teresa McKinnon, a stunningly beautiful African American woman (however trashily dressed she may have appeared at the time), swept into the room. Heather, Buffy, Katie and the others all turned to her, awaiting a report from the last scout to return that night.

* * *

The sun broke the horizon, killing the night, and creating the dawn. Angel lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep like this; there was so much going on. Buffy was here, and that always messed with his head. The Immortal, the Camarilla.. Buffy..

And, his thoughts shifting, something weird was going on with Illyria. And Spike. And.. and with Connor. _Everything_ was weird right now. Angel groaned, what else was new..

He lifted a hand up to his head and ran his cold fingers through his black hair. Not long ago he'd been so sure of what he was doing, the decisions he was making and why he was making them. Now all his perspectives and thoughts were stuck in a haze that he couldn't see through. He didn't know what to do half the time, he didn't have any goals; he was drifting along without direction and without hope. He felt much like he had done just after coming to Los Angeles, after he had left Buffy, almost six years ago. But Doyle had found him, the Powers That Be had found him; and given him purpose. But not hope. Hope had been born with the Shanshu.

And it had died with it also.

His room was curtained, pitch black and lonely. He'd only been back in the hotel for a week; he'd only been away from Wolfram and Hart for a week, but already he missed the sunshine. Even though he'd known the place was rotten to the core, even though he'd known that he was trying to destroy it from within – he still kinda missed it. And he missed Wesley, Fred and Lorne.

For some reason Angel hadn't thought much about Lorne in the last couple of days. Things had been pretty hectic.. but now he wondered where Lorne might be; if he had even survived. They must have done their job, taken down their target.. but knots seemed to develop in Angel's stomach when he considered the possibility that something else had happened. Would he ever know for sure? Lorne might be dead in a ditch somewhere; Lindsay roaming the streets looking for a new evil law firm to settle in with..

He doubted it though. He felt, somewhere deep within his cold exterior – that everything had "gone to plan". And if it had - he didn't feel guilty for what they'd done to Lindsey, not really.. but what he'd done to Lorne in the process – that hurt.

Angel closed his eyes. Yeah, that hurt.

* * *

Dana woke up screaming.

Spike had only just attempted to get to sleep himself, and this was more than an unpleasant shock for him. It was ten thirty in the morning, which for him after a really full on night, was much, much too early to get up.

But the very loud screaming sort of motivated him to stop sleeping. Blinking furiously, Spike rolled off his couch and scrambled over to his bed, swearing internally, reached the girl and attempted to calm her down.

The dark haired slayer had pushed herself backwards next to the wall, and was huddled in a foetal position clutching Spike's sheets. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was staring up at the ceiling like it was the most hideous, terrifying creature in all the dimensions (shrimp not withstanding). Her big dark eyes no longer glowed with an angry madness; now there was only a hopeless, vulnerable look in them that dramatically changed her appearance. Dana was no longer the driven, killing machine; she appeared as totally defenceless young girl who had never really grown up.

As Spike tried to settle her, taking her face in his hands, drawing her out from the nightmare she was trapped in, a sinking feeling crept into his guts. Looking at her like this, Spike began to have doubts about his hope of helping her. Not only was he ill equipped to deal with a super-powered mental patient; she seemed to be beyond help in the first place. Words he had spoken to Angel, many months earlier, floated back into his mind.

"_..The tingling in my forearms tells me she's too far gone to help. She's one of us now. She's a monster.."_

What had changed since then? Nothing; was he deluding himself, to think he could look after her? Should he have handed her over to the slayers the moment he gained her confidence? He didn't know, but thinking of doing that, of giving her away; it seemed like defeat. And Spike hated defeat.

Tears streaming down her face, one hand clutching her injury, Dana broke out of her dream. There was a moment of broken sound – as the screaming stopped, it seemed so did every other noise, and the silence seemed to suffocate the room. Dana stared at Spike, the innocence and the pure terror fading fast from her eyes. For a moment he expected her to punch him, but what happened was almost worse. A dead, empty look overwhelmed her expression, and without a word she turned lay back in the bed, pulling the sheet over herself.

Spike felt lost, and for a moment wished he didn't have a soul. It made situations like this so complicated - and heart wrenching. He slumped down on the floor next to the bed, confused emotions controlling him until one thought pushed all the others out of his brain.

_Beer._

Spike got up, shaking his head as Dana fell back asleep in his bed. He reached the fridge and pulled an icy cold beer out of the fridge, opening the bottle and taking a swig. There was a lot of comfort in beer. His lips brushed the bottle as he prepared to take another drink, when he thought of something. Dana had changed since he had first met her, he could not deny that.

The slayers, the treatments, whatever they had done to her – it was not the reason why she was not the lost case he had believed her to be months previously. She _wanted_ to change; deep within that insanity - she wanted to get better; or at the very least she wanted to be something other than what she had become.

It was all still very bewildering for Spike though, as he didn't have a clue in hell what to do now. He stood there for a few moments, beer in hand, wishing his life hadn't got this busy and confusing in such a short space of time, before someone knocked on his door.

He turned and stared at the door. Who the hell was this? He didn't have many enemies that would knock, but he certainly didn't want any of his "friends" to find Dana here, at least not right now. He looked over to check and see she was still sleeping. She was; the sheet was pulled over her head so it was hard to tell, but he could hear the steady beat of her breathing and knew she wasn't faking.

The knocking stopped. Spike moved over to the door slightly, just as he heard the unmistakable noise of someone trying to pick his lock. Well, that was just downright _rude_. So, making sure to keep his body blocking the side of the room where the bed was located, he moved over to the door and dramatically yanked it open.

* * *

Angel came down the stairs, both looking and feeling like he hadn't slept all morning, and began to make himself a cup of coffee. Brewing the liquid, he turned to look at Cordy, who was draped across the couch in the office, a book lying over her chest and one arm dangling on to the floor, snoring slightly. Her lips were parted, her hair was tangled up in an untidy mess, and she was only wearing one sock. All together it wasn't a very flattering look, and if Cordy had been looking at herself she probably would have been in half a mind to commit suicide.

But as Angel looked at her he saw something else, and smiled. Then his thoughts turned and he thought of another, much blonder girl and his emotions became very confused and his brain began to hurt. He loved both of them in different ways, but the truth stung at him harder than the splitting of his feelings. He could never truly be with either.

This heart wrenching revelation was rudely interrupted by an extremely loud crashing noise from several floors above him. Cordelia woke up with a start, her eyes unfocused and her hair boofing out at spectacular angles and said loudly, "Whatsdemonswhere?"

There was another crash upstairs, followed by another. Angel was already moving, sweeping back up the staircase with a graceful haste that Cordy, who followed somewhat groggily and at a much slower pace, could not hope to reproduce.

He discovered the source of the loud banging and crashing sounds as he appeared on a scene of blue-demi-goddess proportions. Moving in a frenzied tantrum around one of the hotel's horribly wallpapered corridors, Illyria was crashing open doors and throwing around bookshelves, beds, boxes, cabinets and from the look of it several chunks of wall. Angel stood, slightly shocked, watching the devastation of what was once a corridor, as Cordy approached the commotion and stood tentatively behind him. Illyria spotted the two of them, her blue eyes glowing with a blind madness that could rival Dana's. Instinctively they both moved back slightly.

"Similarities! Occurrences! This.. these events! They're happening backwards! Nothing is correct, nothing is the way it was planned to be," Illyria yelled at them angrily, advancing a few steps. "These are nondeterministic polynominal occurrences!" she proclaimed, looking around at the walls as though they were debating her bizarre statement. "I am bound by this plane, these restrictions, this physical.. dementation! I'm trapped here!"

Angel took a step forward, "Illyria.." he began.

She interrupted him with a primal yell of rage. "These WALLS! THEY BIND ME HERE!" she roared furiously, and in violent anger lashed out a powerful fist and smashed a hole in the wall on her left, the debris flying across in front of her as she swung her hand back. Then she stopped, her outward display of terrifyingly open emotion drawing inward once more. She pulled back, retreating slightly, staring at her hands and no longer addressing Angel or Cordelia, "We bind.. ourselves.."

Then her eyes flicked up and met with Angel's and her voice seemed imperious and commanding (or in other words, relatively normal) once more. "I thought I understood things. This place. This world. Myself. I understand.. love.. hope. But.. it doesn't matter. None of it matters! I am broken, and this world, it is too! It is all wrong; all fading, self destructing.. illogical. The physical matter here will not last long enough for the world to see it's end, and time will not bend for it so that it may. I cannot fix it now, for I am weak, powerless.. _mortal_. I must accept what I have become, and what yet I will change to be. Even if I wish not to." Her head tilted to the side and she looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, "And yet death does not bind us all. For those who once walked in the shadowy realm of nothingness now return to the light," she looked at Angel, her expression demeaning somehow, "such as it is."

She lifted her hand and pulled out a strand of her blue hair, holding it in front of her eyes. "It is the same with.." she paused slightly and then in a different voice finished with "..me."

Cordy leaned towards Angel and whispered, "Is she always, you know.. this insane?"

Angel frowned and leaned back to answer her, "Well she's usually fairly insane, but not quite like this. She's been through a lot."

They looked back at Illyria, who was now glaring at them. "Whispers," she accused. "I can taste the fear and the darkness and the indecision. I cannot stay here while this is happening. There is too much internal conflict; and this place makes it stronger."

She turned around and began to walk purposefully, gracefully and yet angrily back down the corridor towards the back wall.

"Illyria, wait-" Angel began and started after her, but before he could do anything, Illyria had taken a monumentous swipe at the wall ahead of her, breaking open an exit for herself. Light poured in through the hole, and Angel backed off hurriedly, stumbling into Cordelia but managing to escape the direct sunlight.

Illyria turned to look back at them before leaving, and in her eyes Angel saw something of the emotions she had been trying to contain. He saw insecurity and fear – fear of the unknown. And with a shock he saw something else, just before she turned and jumped out through the battered, gaping wall into the blazing sunlight - where he could never follow. In the much-too-human expression Illyria had unwittingly exposed, Angel had seen a first glimmer of hope.

* * *

Buffy Summers sat kneeling on the floor, holding a hair pin out in front of her. She looked up at Spike in surprise when he opened the door.

"Buffy!" Spike said, also quite surprised. "What.. why are you trying to pick my lock?"

Buffy brushed off her jeans as she went to stand up. "Well.. you weren't answering.. and kicking it down just seemed so.. unseemly."

"Oh.. well.. still.." Spike mumbled. He stared at her, feeling a familiar swooping sensation in his gut as he breathed in her smell.

Buffy looked back at him and rubbed her hands together and bobbed on the spot a little. "Um.." she said, her nose twitching a little. It was very cute. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Oh, er.." Spike said, looking over his shoulder; Dana was still asleep. He looked back at Buffy, who had now raised an eyebrow and was trying to look around his person and into the basement apartment. "Erm, well.. no," he replied, feeling a surge of irritation at Dana for being in his apartment at the time. He moved out into the corridor, pushing her backwards and up a few stairs as he closed the door behind him.

"No?" Buffy asked, her raised eyebrow very pronounced now.

"Yeah well, it's a total pig-sty, you really wouldn't want to come in," Spike lied unconvincingly.

"Are you sure you don't just have someone in there?" Buffy questioned, and, he may have been imagining it, but she looked almost.. just.. a little bit.. maybe.. jealous?

"Is something wrong?" Spike asked, ignoring her query, but hating himself for being blunt with her. He wished strongly that the situation had been different. He would have relished making all that pointless conversation right now, inviting her inside.. talking a lot more.. making up for his phone message.. getting her to understand how much of a dopey ponce The Immortal really was..

Buffy gave a half shrug. "Not really anything _wrong_. It's just.. you seemed odd earlier, I just wanted to-"

"Well I'm fine. Thanks for your concern," he said matter-of-factly, thinking about The Immortal and not feeling quite so pleasant towards her.

She looked a little bit hurt, and Spike felt guilty almost instantly. "Well.. the.. we.." she stopped as she was stumbling over her sentence; she started again. "_The Slayers_ had a little meeting last night. I heard that you spoke with Teresa McKinnon. She said you were looking for Dana."

"Teresa McKinnon? Oh! Er.. tall black girl? Fairly pretty, short on brains, dresses like a harlot?" Spike asked, remembering his encounter with her.

Buffy frowned at his description, "Umm.. that's her. She said she ran into you near a night club while she was patrolling-"

"More like selling herself out for some extra cash.." Spike muttered, rolling his eyes.

"-and said you were looking around for Dana," Buffy finished, glaring at his interruption in a scolding sort of way.

Spike shrugged. "True," he told her.

"And?" Buffy asked, spreading her hands and waiting.

"Well it's an ongoing case," Spike replied, making it sound as though he had come home empty handed. He didn't like lying to Buffy, but bending the truth made him feel slightly better.

"You don't have any idea where she could be?" Buffy probed further.

Spike leaned back against his apartment door. "I have lots of ideas; I just don't have facts."

"Well," Buffy said, sighing. Spike was being difficult and she was tired. "If you get some _facts_ let me know. Dana's out there and she's dangerous, we need to get her back before she does something else.."

"Do you think.." Spike started, "that she _has_ done anything yet? Any murders or crimes?"

"We're not sure, but we don't think so. We've been hearing rumours that she was cleaning out the demon population quite well when she arrived in L.A. though.."

Something clicked in Spike's brain. "Oh! Of course! Emissary of hell.. or heaven. Same thing really; for a vampire."

Buffy looked confused. "What?"

"Oh, just something a crazy vamp told me in a bar a couple nights ago. Rambling on about how some emissary had come to.. "purge" the locals or something like that. Maybe he meant Dana," Spike explained, Gunn and Connor's theories on the Camarilla floating into his mind too.

"Buffy," Spike said, looking up at her, his expression changed.

"Er.. yes Spike?"

"You're not safe with him. The Immortal-"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Oh don't start that up aga-"

"I'm serious, Buffy. This isn't some revenge prejudice I'm going on here, despite the fact the guy is a complete wanker; he's up to something evil and I don't want you to get hurt. Cordelia had a vision-"

"Spike," Buffy interrupted, sounding irritated. "Look, know how you feel but I know what I'm doing. It's none of your business anymore-"

"Anymore?" Spike repeated, then crossed his arms. "You know we never _actually_ broke up."

Buffy gaped at him, "You died!" she accused loudly.

"That's completely beside the point-"

"What was I supposed to wait around for you to come back? Because of course, I knew that was likely to happen - especially when you didn't tell me for _months_ when you were swanning around with Angel and Wolfram and Hart-"

"_Swanning around? SWANNING_ around?" Spike cut her off in indignation. "Since when have you _ever_ said "_swanning around"_ Buffy? That's something _he_ says isn't it? He's infecting you with his cute little phrases and his stupid pizza-pie accent and-"

Buffy stopped him, touching his arm. "Look Spike. I'm not in love with him, we're not getting married, and we're not living happily ever after or anything like that. I am just.. having a _relationship_. One without all the depth and.. pain of my past relationships. It's just.. a thing," she explained.

"He's the _enemy_," Spike told her. "He's _plotting against you all_."

Buffy sighed. "Look I'm not telling him the trade secrets of being a slayer or anything-"

"But you're ignoring him as a threat Buffy, and he is one-"

"Look," she said with forced-patience, "My primary concern here is Dana. She's my mission, she's why I'm back in America in the first place and I _need_ to find her."

"Well I can't help you Buffy," Spike mumbled, looking at his feet.

"You can't or you won't?" she countered, putting her hands on her hips. "Because I can't believe that you wouldn't help me out with information about the woman _who chopped off your hands_ just because you can't stand my new boyfriend!"

"I'm not – what – you think I'm really that self centred? You have no clue what you're talking about, so don't pretend to understand how I feel about all this."

Buffy gave him an exasperated look. "Well you're certainly not being forthcoming about your emotions, so how am I supposed to tell?"

Spike groaned and put his hand up to his face for a moment. "It doesn't matter, I'm sorry – I just – I've got a lot on my mind right now.."

"So do I, Spike," she said quietly. "Anyway I have to go, I have to call T.I. and I-"

"TEE EYE!" Spike repeated in horror, gaping at her. " 'T' 'I'! As in '**T**he' '**I**mmortal'?"

Buffy blushed, looked downward and mumbled something that may have been "Well it's a bit of a mouthful.."

Spike on the other hand, looked skyward and gave a sad sort of laugh, "Oh god, what did I do to deserve this?"

Buffy looked back up at him, irritation taking control over her embarrassment. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He shrugged and put his hands behind his head, looking wearily; his body language clearly displaying he didn't want to talk about it.

"No I want to know," Buffy started hotly, "So what if he has a dorky nickname – what is really going on with you? You're so different and I'm not sure I.." she trailed off and shook her head as though reconsidering saying what she was thinking.

"What?" Spike bit back, looking at her again, his defined cheek bones standing out even more so as he pursed his lips. "Just because I'm not bubbling with joy that you're off shagging someone that I violently hate, you automatically assume it's a problem on _my end_?"

"No Spike - you are _different_! It's not just this .. me and The Immortal thing – it's," she paused, frowning, "You're.. just different."

"Yes well I've been through a lot recently; things change," he replied. "And I _have_ changed, and yes – as hard as you might find it to believe, _grown_ as a person. I've saved the world since I last saw you. Twice! That sort of thing tends to have an effect on your outlook on life."

She looked about to apologize but Spike ploughed on anyway, "And no, it doesn't help when I see the woman I love _swanning around_ with some fake-Italian ponce who wears a tux to bed!"

Spike watched Buffy's lips part silently as they looked at each other. She broke the contact and looked away, troubled sadness lining her face.

When Spike spoke again his voice was softer, "You didn't think I had stopped did you? Time won't heal my wounds Buffy.."

"Spike-" Buffy started, the look of patient "I'm sorry" sadness on her face. He cut her off; he didn't need to hear this.

"It doesn't matter," he said, looking over at a patch of wall that was growing mould on it. "You need to go and call _Tee Eye_, so I won't keep you."

"I-"

"We'll talk some other time. I can't help you now."

Turning away from Buffy, Spike put the key he had been fumbling with in his pocket into the keyhole of his door and then pushed it open. Dana was sitting in the bed, awake and staring at him as he came into the room. Spike moved to close the door quickly behind himself, preventing her from being spotted by the other slayer who was standing in his hallway, and at the same time cutting himself off from the woman he loved.

The minute the door was shut he slumped down on the floor, and groaned quietly, lifting his hand to his eyes again. His extra sensitive hearing picked out every step Buffy took up the staircase; each one making him feel even more miserable than he had before.

* * *

"So she's gone then?" Gunn asked, looking at Angel.

Angel nodded numbly, his face set with a brooding expression.

"Should we go after her?"

Angel shrugged, "Probably. She's a powerful demon, she's certainly dangerous."

Gunn frowned, "I don't think she's hurt anyone.. not anymore.."

Cordelia snorted dubiously and Gunn turned to look at her. She raised her eyebrows, "Clearly you haven't been upstairs yet."

He looked confused; Cordy elaborated. "Imagine dragon through the front door – but spread out across a whole hotel floor."

"Oh right," Gunn said, looking up at the ceiling as though expecting to see debris falling from it.

"Yep," said Cordy, pushing her face into her hand as she leaned on the counter, looking morose. "No idea how we're going to afford to fix it all up." She glared at Angel, and then like Gunn she looked at the ceiling, although her expression was cross.

"Why couldn't we get a 'These rich people are in trouble – here, save them and get a very healthy reward' vision for once?" she demanded of the heavens. "Instead you give us some confusing, long term, pain in the butt, no leads, not-going-to-get-payed-for-helping mission about vampires and slayers! Tuh!"

Angel was almost smiling. "Cordy.. you're backsliding."

"I know," Cordelia whined, sinking down into a chair. "I just hate being poor. Agh! This is _all your fault Angel!_ You and your '_not-thinking-for-the-future-we're-all-going-to-die-so-what-difference-does-it-make-anyway_'.. ness!" she accused him angrily. "Where was your ray of hope? The forethought that you all might not die? You think I would give you a vision and a mission to save the world if you were just going to end up a big pile of dust having not made any difference? Hell no! Who do you think I am? Frodo?"

Angel looked sort of embarrassed, and so did Gunn. "Well.. at the time.." he began.

Cordy sighed and brushed his excuses aside with her hand. "I'm sorry, my bad. I'm just uptight and ranting makes me feel better. What were we talking about?"

"Illyria," Angel said in a resigned tone.

"Oh yes," Cordy said nodding, "The psychotically mad demon lady who destroyed half of our home, how could I forget?"

"I'm thinking if we spread out we can-" Angel started and then stopped, sitting up straighter, his expression altered suddenly.

"-total the damages and bill her?" Cordelia finished for him, a questioning look on her face as she tried to read Angel's mood.

He held up his hand and tilted his head, and then they all understood. They had uninvited guests.

Gunn looked sharp and moved stealthily, despite his injury, over to the weapons cabinet and quietly removed his axe. Cordy reached under the counter and unbuckled a sword that she'd had the foresight to place there, and looked up for instructions.

Angel signalled quickly that the intruder was on the floor above them, and the three of them began to make their way the staircase. Half way up however, Cordy thought she saw something in the office. She turned and stared, distracted. The boys continued up the steps, not noticing Cordy had stopped following them.

Cordelia squinted, taking a step backwards to try and see better. Something was wrong..

She looked back up the stairs, but Angel and Gunn were gone. She was about to call them back down, because she was _sure_ there was something down here on the ground floor, when someone put a hand over her mouth. Her arms were bound quickly and tightly as she struggled to free herself, and suddenly there were people all around her. They wore black clothing and black cloaks that covered their faces, but from what Cordy could barely make out they looked fairly human.

She flailed aimlessly, grunting and trying to make her legs his something to make a crash or a thump or.. any kind of sound. But before long she felt pain across the back of her head, and everything went dark.

* * *

"I'm a slayer," Dana told Spike suddenly as he gave her dinner in bed, handing her a plate of food that he had made up for her. Spike met her eyes, his caution senses tingling.

"I know," he said carefully.

"The Chosen one. One girl in all the world. One made to fight.. one made to kill. Now.. one of _many_," she said, then took a bite of the sausage he had cooked for her. Spike sat down on his couch, not eating. He had decided drinking a pint of blood around her _might not_ be the best idea. In her present state of mind she was relatively calm.. he didn't want to set her off.

"Um.. yeah," Spike nodded, striking up what he hoped was a conversation. "Willow did a spell, made it so all the potential slayers in the world became.. well _slayers_. It's why you have your powers.."

"Willow is a tree," Dana announced. Spike raised an eyebrow at her, then shrugged, dropping the subject.

She finished eating her sausages and vegetables in silence, then when she was done hopped out of bed carrying the plate and cutlery back to the sink. Spike leapt up to intercept her, "You- you don't have to do that. You're injured-"

Dana looked down at herself, putting her spare hand to where a large white bandage was taped across her belly. "I'm a slayer," she repeated, continuing to hold her side. She looked up at him, "I'll be fine."

Spike stepped back, nonplussed, as she walked to the sink and began to clean her plate. She continued to wash the plate even after it was no longer dirty, her hands scrubbing the white china, her mind off thinking of other things.

"It's.. darkness," she said, blinking furiously as she wiped the plate over and over, "I.. it's me."

She closed her eyes finally, sighing as tears welled up around her squeezed shut lashes. "Years and years all I saw was cold stone and empty beds and hollow comfort.. I couldn't move I couldn't.. couldn't step out from my mind. All I saw was him, and the world he took away from me."

Her lips began to tremble and she shook her head slightly, "But now.. all I _am_ now.. is darkness and anger and death and destruction. Life can't go backwards. I can't fix it. I'll never be.. I'll never be a princess. Or an angel. Or anything other than darkness.."

She shuddered, tears dripping down her soft cheeks and onto her shirt. Spike moved over to her; wanting to put a reassuring arm around her, to tell her she was wrong, to comfort her in some way.. but he didn't know how to. Not with Dana.

She opened her eyes, and turned her head to look at him. "All I know is death. I remember I see.. I can't.. I have so much anger! I can't get it out I just I.. I just turn and destroy and take away and kill and break and melt away into a shadow.. but all I am is this darkness..

"..I'm.. a monster.."

She let out an anguished sob and squeezed her hand over the plate she was washing, crushing it with a silence breaking crash. She gasped and stared at her hand, where bits of the shattered china had cut into her. Blood oozed out of the wounds.

Spike's inaction broke and he moved over to help her, but she pulled back from him, holding her bleeding hand and shaking her head. "Oh god.. god I'm so broken.. so damaged so.. so dark! I HATE IT!" she yelled finally and then collapsed on the floor, clutching her bleeding hand and sobbing furiously.

Spike bent down next to her, pulling her close to him, even as she fought him half-heartedly, crying hysterically and mumbling words every now and then. He held her tightly until she broke her struggle and slumped, sobbing onto his shoulder. Spike's mind raced with guilt, indecision and weariness.

"What life has made you Dana.. your past.. and the things that happened to you.." he told her as she wrapped her arms around him and cried into his neck, "..the things you did. It's not your fault-"

She let out a disbelieving sob and in a muffled voice cried, "I still see it! It wasn't someone else, it wasn't a dream. It was me.. blood and bones and knives.. It was all me-"

"I know," he cut her off, gently unfolding her out of his embrace so he could look at her. He put one of his hands on her cheek and pulled her eyes into his, trying to ground her in reality. "But you can't go back now. You can't wish it all away, you can't hide from it, as much as you want to sometimes. It hurts and it's not easy, but you have to know the truth, because that is the only way you'll be able to recover. The things you did – it isn't your fault; you're not an evil person.. the darkness within you – you can make it go away.."

Dana closed her eyes again and tilted her head back, burning with pain that had nothing to do with her physical injuries. "I was just like him.." she said in a terrified whisper, "..the things I did.. all me.. all my hands that-" she stopped and opened her eyes and stared at Spike in horror. She held up her bleeding hand to touch the hand he had rested on her face, holding his fingers in hers. She sobbed again, her broken mind magnifying memories of pain and suffering and hiding the few good ones she still had left. She said, "You're not him and I.. I.. look what I did to you.."

"No," Spike said, shaking his head and making her look at him again, "I'm fine now, you won't ever need to feel guilty about what you did to me. In hind sight it was probably for the best.."

She frowned at him, giving him a look like he was crazy. That was certainly ironic.

"Ok so it wasn't the most fun I've ever had, having my limbs removed.. but well, nevermind that anyway.. I said I was going to help you Dana and I'm _going_ to help you. Together we can get rid of your darkness, because – I mean – listen to yourself. You haven't done those things since you've been with the slayers have you? Don't you think you're better now?"

Dana looked uncertain, "But it doesn't matter.."

"It does matter!" he told her vehemently, "It means you can change! Means you _are_ changing! Darkness doesn't control you Dana – you're better now, and we can-"

"I.. I killed demons.. and vampires.." she said in a hollow, guilty voice, one of her hands finding Spike's shirt and gripping it tightly. "Hacked and ripped and broke away. I made them suffer and I.. I liked it.."

Spike was momentarily set back (his anxiety level jumped a few metres too) but recovered fairly quickly. "You're a slayer Dana. You're supposed to rid the world of evil.."

"But you're not evil.." she said quietly, Spike's anxiety level climbing higher still and he became very aware of her hand near his neck, clutching his shirt.

"No I'm not.." he replied, equally as hushed.

"And you're a vampire.." she said, her expression unreadable now. Closed and.. caged.

"Yes.."

He partly expected her to break out of her sadness, and go crazy and murderous again, but she did not. The wall blocking her emotions fell though, and her confusion and pain became visible once again. "But then how do I tell?" she asked wildly. "What's good and what's evil? When I can't even tell which one I am? All demons are supposed to be evil; but you're not.."

Feeling relieved she had really started to trust him, Spike tried to comfort her further. "You can tell with me, Dana, so some part of you can make that distinction. To know what's good from what's bad. It is hard to tell sometimes, because you're right.. there are demons out there that are good guys, even though from the outside they might not appear to be."

"But what if I make a wrong choice?" she questioned further, clearly this issue worrying her.

"Well it does happen, but.." he paused when he saw her panicked expression, "but – I'll be there to help you make the right decision. The right choice."

"What if you're not there?" she continued, but she did look a little less terrified.

"I'll be there," he said firmly, and meant it.

She bit her lip and looked down, "What if you're not though.."

Spike sighed and patted her shoulder, "Well for starters the demons that you don't kill are.. well.. me obviously. Um.. Illyria – she sort of looks like a normal pretty girl but she's kind of blue and wears a brown leather outfit and yeah.. she likes to hit people – she's OK though, so she's off the kill list. Lorne, if we ever see him again – green, red hair, horns. Sings a lot and wears terrible bright coloured suits – he's pretty recognisable. Hmm.. oh right – yeah there's Angel too.."

"An angel?" she repeated, looking a little awestruck.

"Oh that's just his name, he's not.." Spike laughed nastily, "he's definitely not 'sent from above' or something like that. He's a vampire like me. We.. we both have souls.. although personally I would say my soul is a lot more _pure_.."

"Good vampires.." Dana said quietly. "Head and heart no longer.. Souls?"

"It's only the two of us," he assured her. "All the rest of them are still bad. Feel free to stake away.."

"But why you then?" she questioned.

Spike shrugged, "I like to think of it as fate and destiny.. and think that one day maybe I'll be human again. If I save enough people.."

Dana looked sad again, "Maybe I will be too.."

Spike's eyes snapped back to hers and he shook his head and reached out to touch her face again, "No kid, you _are_ human. You've just tasted darkness.. and a world you never should have had to experience. It isn't your fault, but that doesn't make you any less human."

She nodded slightly but lapsed into silence. Spike looked down at her bleeding hand and stood up to go and get something to wrap it with. When he'd found some bandages, he moved back and knelt down beside her again and began to wrap her injury. She held her hand out limply, her face distant again.

* * *

Angel and Gunn came running back down the stairs. Cordy's sword lay dejected on the floor next to the counter, but there was no one around.

"Cordy?" Angel yelled, panic rising in his gut. "CORDY!"

"CORDY!" Gunn added, running over to the office. Half way there he stopped, looking a little dazed.

"She's not here," Angel told him, also looking numb. "They distracted us upstairs so they could grab her."

They had found no one on the upper floors, only a wild goose chase of noises and shadows. Angel couldn't track any scents up there; it was only when they came back downstairs that he picked up flavour.

"Who are 'they' though? Who would want Cordy?" Gunn asked quickly.

"I don't know.." Angel said, staring at the floor. He took in a deep breath, trying to pick up the attackers. The scent of Cordelia was trying to overwhelm him, and bile kept creeping up in his throat. It was not a new emotion for Angel, but he felt copious amounts of self disappointment. He couldn't believe he left her here alone. "Vampires," he said after a while, looking over at Gunn. "Three, maybe four. They must have gone out through the basement, because it's still light outside."

Gunn frowned, "Either that or they had a van."

Angel swore violently and kicked the pouf, which went spinning across the floor. "How could I have been this stupid? Why did she stay down here? Gunn, I _can't_ lose her ag-"

He stopped, his nostrils flaring. He could smell something else. He looked at the office. A line of powder was sprinkled across the floor next to the doorway. Being careful not to disturb it, he walked over to the office and squatted down.

Gunn stared at him, blinking furiously and shaking his head.

Angel looked back at him, noticing his reaction. "What do you see here?"

Gunn blinked again, "I.." he started, trying to focus but in the end giving up and looking away. "I can't make it out. There's something.. but I don't know what. Just a confusing blur."

Angel glared at the powder, "Magic. It must do something to distract and affect people's vision. It's not working on me though."

He looked around at the crumbled front door, emotions clawing at him from the inside. He had to get her back.

He had to.

* * *

After a few minutes of silence Dana spoke again. "They're coming," she said, her expression dark.

Spike frowned. "Who?" he asked. It seemed he was always lost in these conversations.

Dana blinked, her expression distant, almost hollow. "They come in secret, hidden behind lies.. a masquerade.."

"A masquerade? You.. you mean the Camarilla?" Spike asked her, shocked that she would know about that.

"I see it all the time. It's the end. The end of our world," she said in a dead voice.

Spike groaned, "Oh crap.. they're not doing another Apocalypse are they? I think we've had just about enough of those.."

She shook her head, "I don't know why they took my blood. Slayer blood. But no one would know they stole it.. because it's me.."

"What!" Spike demanded loudly. "The people who attacked you yesterday? They were vampires? They were the Camarilla?"

"Cut me open and left me.." Dana said quietly. "Like I didn't matter enough to finish.."

Spike stretched out and squeezed her arm, "That's not why Dana. You do matter. You're important to me.."

She looked quickly at him, but then looked away again. Spike frowned, thinking. "Why would they need your blood..?"

"I see it all the time. The end.." she said numbly, looking off into nothing again and ignoring Spike's question. "The world is bare and the road stretches on and on with no one left on either side. All who protect are gone.. and all that's left is.. monsters.."

"How do you see this?" Spike asked her slowly.

"It's the circle of time, of life.. of everything. Strong dreams and memories. Tells me visions of the future.."

"Slayer dreams.." Spike mumbled, remembering.

"They're not dreams. It's all real. It's all.. in me.." she said, tears falling down her face. She lifted her legs up to her chin and rocked back and forth, her monologue ended. He stared at her, all vulnerable and hopeless. It made him angry to see her like that, and think what she could've been like if it weren't for the acts of that one person so many years ago..

He touched her arm gently and she stopped moving and looked at him, her big brown eyes displaying a myriad of different emotions, conflicting and indecisive. "It won't be the end of the world Dana," he told her in what he hoped was an inspiring, comforting voice. "There are people who stop that from happening, and I'm one of them. We've done our fair share of world saving, so trust me when I say that we won't be giving up just yet.

"And you're a slayer - remember? It's your job.. um.. well your duty.. to do this stuff too. So don't worry, pet. We'll be alright."

* * *

Cordelia groaned and tried to sit up. She couldn't. Cold metal clamped her hands together and her legs were bound tightly with what felt like rope. It felt as though she was on a plain, possibly steel floor, but her eyes were masked and she couldn't see to know for sure.

Waking up on a floor.. again.

Cordy bit down hard on her jaw as she forced herself not to swear. What the hell was wrong with her, getting herself kidnapped and dumped unconscious onto a floor? Floor! Again!

She controlled her emotions and tried to think. She could hear people talking, perhaps outside the cell she was in. If she was in a cell. It did sound like there was a wall between her and other people, that was for sure.

She strained her ears.

"_..but she's not! The blood doesn't match! We've bagged the wrong one, Jordan, he's going to _kill_ us!" _She heard a voice say.

"_We're already dead you moron!" _Came the irritated response of another, probably Jordan._ "And how were we supposed to know? It's not like they're labelled! Besides, she seemed pretty strong, even with that powder the shaman gave us-"_

"_-the blood type doesn't match – did you not listen to me? She's definitely _not_ a slayer, which means she's useless and that _we're screwed!" the first voice almost yelled.

"_Well standing around bitching about it isn't going to solve anything," _The one she guessed was Jordan said in a snarl. "_We eat her, we dump her body and we go find a real slayer, end of conversation. That blow to the head will keep her unconscious for hours anyway, seeing as she's just human."_

"_Go find a real slayer? Man, do you know how not easy that is? You do remember the _last_ slayer we tried to get don't you?"_

"_We would have had her if you hadn't chickened out when we heard someone coming-"_

"Me_ chicken out? I seem to remember-"_

But Cordy had zoned out at _'We eat her' _and was now desperately trying to free herself of her bonds. She attacked her blind fold with her shoulder, trying to dislodge it, while at the same time trying to push herself into an upright sitting position. There were chains tying her hands behind her back, and her feet were bound together at the ankles with rope, but after a few hurried moments Cordelia pushed herself up off of her side. She sat panting, her shoulder still working away at her blind fold.

The sound of boots approached, and Cordy made the assumption that her captors had indeed decided to eat her. She clenched her teeth and gave a final hearty push with her shoulder that nearly dislocated it, but nudged the blindfold up off of her eyes.

She _was _in a cell. The walls, floor and ceiling were all lined with steel. It was completely empty save for her, with only one door. She looked down at her legs. Thick, tightly bound rope was tied around her ankles. Cordy tried frantically to loosen the cords but nothing worked.

A key turned in the lock and the ex-cheerleader threw herself back onto the ground, closing her eyes and laying still. The door creaked open and then closed again.

Only one set of footsteps entered, covering the short distance from the door to her side and then pausing. She could hear him muttering under his breath as he bent down next to her.

An ice cold finger reached down to her face and touched her cheek and her blindfold. It took every inch of self control in her to stop from flinching.

The vampire, as she assumed him to be, then retrieved a knife from somewhere, cutting the blindfold off of Cordy's face. She felt the flat of the blade touch her skin, and suppressed another shudder.

After this tender inspection, Cordy felt shocked and almost molested by what the vamp did next. He hoisted her furiously to her feet, holding her shoulders and taking almost all of her weight. Cordy felt her feet touch the ground awkwardly, her ankles bending at odd angles. She hoped she could hold herself upright if he dropped her.

She knew it would happen before she heard it; the vamp well.. he vamped out. His face changed with that strange morphing noise that Cordy always found very disturbing. And that was when Cordy struck. Without opening her eyes she head butted him hard in the face, and he staggered back and dropped her.

Through sheer force of will, the words '_I will not be eaten'_ flaring throughout her mind, Cordy managed to keep herself from falling over. One of her ankles twisted and snapped horribly, but she balanced herself and had control (and her eyes wide open) when the vamp recovered.

Ugly as sin, the guy lunged at Cordy. Mobility not her strongest asset, Cordy's response was not quite as great as she would have liked it to be. She threw her body at him, shoulder heavy, as he came at her, forcing him into one of the walls. She slammed her shoulder into his face, whacking it hard against the wall with a sharp crack before they both fell onto the floor.

Breathing harshly with the pain from her ankle and the effort that this attack took her, Cordy looked over at the vamp. His neck was broken; which had knocked him out. Knowing that it had not been a quiet scuffle, but praising whatever inner strength had allowed her to manage it (the part-demon thing helping of course) she managed to manoeuvre herself so that she could rummage through the guy's clothes. She had to look over her shoulder to achieve this however, as her hands were chained behind her back, but finally she found a ring of keys that he had tied to his belt.

Unfortunately however, none of them fitted her manacles.

So instead she managed to awkwardly pick up the knife he had used to cut her blindfold off, and after a few minutes of praying that no one was coming, she freed the ropes binding her legs. Groaning and muttering, Cordy got to her feet, hands still shackled behind her back.

Dropping the knife, which was too small and not that much use against vamps anyway, but keeping hold of the keys, Cordy fumbled with the door and let herself out into a corridor.

She didn't have time to look if the coast was clear, and as a result; it wasn't. There was a vamp coming down the corridor that saw her stagger out of her cell and limp as fast as she could straight at him. This must have surprised him, because he didn't find time to cry out that she was lose, or to get out of the way. She crashed into him, her shoulders again becoming useful weapons as she tried to pin him into a wall like the other vamp. Unable to use her hands though, he found room to take the advantage from her. He pushed her hard away from him, got to his feet and then punched her hard in the face, three times.

Cordy fell against a wall, her energy used up and fatigue taking hold on her. She groaned, her right shoulder feeling extremely dislocated now, her left ankle broken and her face and jaw screaming in agony. Pain coursed through her; her injuries arguing with her brain over which was hurting most. The vampire approached her, grabbing her limply hanging arm and twisting it, causing her to yell.

"You're not a slayer," he told her, sneering. He was already vamped out, so he didn't need to put on a different face for the occasion. "But you're not human.."

Cordy laughed bitterly. "No," she whispered as she found her throat dry. "I'm human. You're just a _really crap_ vampire."

He reached out and clutched her face, squeezing her cheeks together. His expression was not the sort you would want to see worn on anybody in a position to take your life.

Conversation ceased and Cordy knew she was too tired to resist. The vampire shoved her roughly against the wall again, pressing his body next to hers as he bared his fangs at her. She groaned, trying to struggle but not getting anywhere. Blood dripped down her wrists where the metal restraints cut into her skin.

No one was coming to save her now. Angel wasn't going to leap out of the shadows and beat this guy off of her then carry her to safety. There wasn't going to be a team of people sweeping down the corridor, clearing the building and leaving her to collapse into the arms of a friend or loved one.

Cordelia was alone. She only had herself, and she'd been run raw already.

He bit her.

Cordy screamed once, her vision turning red as she sank lower down the wall. He drank deeply and Cordy's mind seemed to cloud. She felt herself sliding into a hazy world of confusion, her thoughts mixing together and memories flashing in front of her eyes.

_I will not be eaten_. A voice echoed loudly, somewhere in her mind. _I will NOT be eaten_. _I WILL NOT BE EATEN._

Blood flowed; she tried to stay conscious.

_I.. WILL.. NOT.. BE.. EATEN!_

And so Cordy did what would come naturally to many women around the world, faced with a male attacker bigger and stronger than them. Using strength she didn't know she had left, a power that had bubbled up inside her with her last streak of defiance, Cordy's instincts kicked in.

Her leg bent, and with an insane, desperate blow she kneed the vampire squarely in the nuts.

His teeth ripped the puncture wound in her neck open wider as his feeding broke and he fell off of her, gasping in pain and falling to the floor. A spatter of her blood dropped from his lips.

Cordy kicked him again, with as much strength as she could manage, in her weakened, near-death state.

And then she ran.

* * *

Illyria opened a box. A book, four pencils, a whiteboard marker and a porcelain cup lay inside. She picked up the book, flipping through the pages. Thoughts rushed through her mind, but she couldn't make sense of them. A throbbing behind her eyes made her feel trapped in her own skull. She had wanted to get away from all these memories.. they made her feel weaker.. stranger.. confused.

It was why she had left the hotel. Why she had fled.

But she had no where to go, and she had wound up here, in Fred's apartment.

Illyria swallowed, human emotions drowning her, as she surveyed the room. Things from Fred's office had been sent back here and they lay in dejected boxes all around her. She had been looking through them, even though she didn't understand why. It was so frustrating to her to be stuck in this state of madness and indecision. She kept questioning all her actions, her thoughts, her decisions, her feelings. Why couldn't she just go on? Why did everything little thing have to matter to her?

A tear slid down Illyria's cheek, but she didn't notice. She was staring at a soft toy that was placed delicately on Fred's bed. Wesley had probably done that.

Illyria fought down another wave of emotion as she walked over to the bed and picked up the toy. It was a rabbit.

_I was born here_, she thought, looking up at the ceiling. _Is that why I've come back?_

She turned, ever confused, to look over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of herself in the broken mirror.

Illyria's hands tightened around the bunny as she looked as she stared at the mirror. Her reflection was wrong.

She wasn't supposed to look like that.

* * *

Gunn and Angel had followed both possible trails that the vampires could have followed and still found nothing. Something was blocking Angel's ability to track, and he worried again that they were using magic to prevent him from finding her. Who would want to kidnap Cordy? Was it a survivor from Wolfram and Hart perhaps? Someone who wanted to make her pay for expelling the evil from this dimension?

For some reason Angel didn't think that was the case.. he had a feeling this all had something to do with Cordy's vision. The vampires could be part of the Camarilla.. working for The Immortal. But if that was the case he didn't know where they would take her, or why they would want her in the first place.

He had tried calling Buffy, to see if she knew anything about where the Camarilla were located here in L.A. but she hadn't picked up and she hadn't returned his calls.

Angel stalked through the sewers, trying to come up with a trace.. a smell.. some sort of lead. Anything. But he just couldn't find her.

* * *

Cordy's right arm hung limply at her side, blood oozed from her neck and her hands, her ankle was almost refusing to work and the left side of her face was starting to puff up with bruises. She looked like hell, she felt worse, but still she pushed on.

She couldn't really run. Her equivalent of a run was dragging her limp, throbbing left leg along as quickly as she could while throwing the other side of her body forward on her right leg. It hurt, it looked ridiculous, but it was working.

Panic was trying to consume her, but she managed to fight it down. She had to get out, she had to get home. She couldn't stop and rest, she couldn't sit down, she couldn't take a break. Because then she wouldn't be able to get back up, to continue. And she would die.

So she pushed on.

The building was full of corridors and rooms, but hardly any people or vampires or.. whoever was in charge here. She tried to record the things she saw.. so she could be helpful when she got back home.. but she was in too much pain to register many thoughts other than finding a way to escape.

Finally, after shuffling through laboratories full of bubbling, gurgling liquids, ducking around corridors and hiding from what looked like agitated scientists, Cordy found an elevator.

Or more accurately, she found two elevators.

She pressed the up button, feeling slightly dreamlike as she waited next to the white doors, covered in bruises, blood and injuries. Up or down, was probably a hard choice, but vampires probably had their offices in the basement levels. She hadn't seen a window yet.

She looked around herself with anxiety, uneasy there was no alarm that had gone off and no stream of security vamps or whatever running through the corridors looking for her. Maybe they hadn't found the two vampires she'd downed yet, or maybe those two didn't want anyone to know she'd got free.

_Ding._

The noise brought Cordy out of her thoughts with a jump and she looked around wildly. The little lights above each elevator had turned on, and both elevator doors creaked open.

One lift was blissfully empty. One was filled with vampires. About seven of them, all wearing black cloaks. As the door had opened they all turned and stared at her, and she at them. There was a strange surreal pause when nothing happened.

Then Cordy threw herself into other elevator and looked at the buttons.

She pushed the "ground" button, which was in about the middle of the mess of buttons. A yell of confusion came from the occupied elevator, and just as the doors swung shut she saw swish of black fabric as the vamps came running out into the corridor.

Cordy breathed, terror pumping through her veins as she leaned next to the elevator wall. She wanted to just collapse.. to sink down the wall onto the floor and die.

Die..

No.. she'd done that before, and it sucked. Well, she couldn't remember it, so therefore it must have sucked. She was _not_ going to give up her second chance at life just because of a few bumps and scratches or because she was tired.

OK, so they might not be bumps and scratches.. she might be running on a severe lack of blood and she might only be surviving on pure determination, but.. she wasn't dead again yet.

Not yet..

The elevator "dinged" again, and the doors slid open. Cordy peered out. The room was gloomy and dark, unlike the white coated walls of upstairs. There was a man sitting behind a desk on the left side of the room, reading a book. There was a door at the far end of the room. A door that might lead out of this hell.

Well, it was her last hope.

She stumbled out of the elevator, looking around again to see if there was anyone else about. She could hear the distant rumbling of the other lift. Cordy groaned, pushing her right leg out and limping forward, as fast as she could towards that door.

The man behind the desk looked up, and she caught his eye. He was wearing black, just like the other vamps. His eyes widened as he stared at Cordy. He slowly got to his feet.

"How did you get up here?" he said, almost to himself it seemed. He didn't look particularly worried about her escaping though, which made her agonize about the door being an exit.

She ignored his question in any event, and hurried as fast as she could with all her painful, horrifyingly ugly injuries, towards the door anyway. He was just moving out from behind his desk, taking measured steps over to her when the other elevator arrived on the ground floor and dinged open. The desk-vamp turned and stared, and Cordy threw a glance over her shoulder.

The black cloaked vampires piled out of the lift, looking around and then spotting Cordy. They shouted and began to run across the room towards her. She let out an anguished cry as she tried to make the last few metres to the door, her hands clenched tightly behind her, her leg throbbing and tears stabbing her eyes.

She made it to end of the room; her dislocated shoulder crashing into what felt like another steel door as she tried to push it open. She wailed as the pain coursed through her and the door didn't move. The vampires had slowed down and were slowly walking in towards her.

"It's locked," said the desk-vamp. He smiled in a way that made Cordy's neck hairs defy gravity. "You can't get out. You can't escape. You've tried and you've failed miserably.. you _disgusting_ creature. The door is stronger than the toughest slayer can break. You can't get out."

Cordy's lip curled in defiance. Clearly the word about her not being a slayer hadn't caught on yet.

"You're the Camarilla," she mumbled, turning to face them and putting her back against the doorframe. Her hands touched the handle and the lock.

"So you know.." one of the other vampires said.

Cordy titled her face upwards. "Everybody knows," she whispered quietly. "I just knew it first. I have a knack for that. It's actually.. a funny story."

"Someone take her back upstairs.." another vamp said, looking at her with distaste. "The smell of all that un-poisoned blood is making me want to feed on rodents.."

One of the others shot him a warning look, but Cordy was only half paying attention.

"Well bumpy faced people," she managed, smiling slightly despite everything. "I'd love to stay and let you try to kill me some more but.. well.."

There was a click and the door behind her fell open. A stream of sunlight poured in and the vamps shrieked and backed away. Cordy turned and stumbled into her salvation, the light shining down on her, brighter than she could ever remember. The keys she had taken from that first guard dropped from her exhausted fingers to the ground behind her as she hobbled out into a street, bathed in the wonderful sanctuary of light. Cars rushed up and down what seemed like a normal Los Angeles road.

Cordelia smiled, her face hurting as she did so. She'd made it. She'd escaped.

Stupid vampires.

She took another step down the footpath, savouring her victory. And then she collapsed.

* * *

Hours after sunset, despair filling him at his failure to come up with any leads, Angel slumped back into the hotel lobby. Gunn looked over at him from the steps, where he was sitting. They shared a look. Neither of them had any ideas on where to find Cordy.

The phone rang. Angel rushed over to the counter and fumbled with the receiver as he tried to answer the call as quickly as possible.

"Hello?" he said in a rushed voice.

Gunn looked up, his eyes questioning.

"Yes, yes that's me," Angel was saying, his expression a three course meal of broodiness.

"..what?" Angel looked over at Gunn, his eyes widening. "Yes.. I.. I'm on my way."

He hung up.

"What's happening?" Gunn asked as Angel began to walk towards the hotel's unprepared entranceway. The tall dark man stood up and followed Angel's footsteps as they left the hotel and headed out into the garden.

"The police found her," Angel told him as they moved. "She's in the hospital."

"Who, Cordy?" Gunn got Angel to confirm as they reached the street. "Is.. is she going to be OK?"

They got into Gunn's car. Unlike Angel, the street-fighter-turned-lawyer-and-back-again had had the wisdom to keep his vehicle in a separate location to the Wolfram and Hart underground basement.

"I don't know," said Angel, throwing a nervous look at his friend. "They didn't say."

"Call Spike," Gunn suggested as he started up the car.

"What?" Angel protested. "Why?"

Gunn gave him an exasperated look. "Because we might need support? If whoever it was that took Cordy comes back to try and get her again?"

"Oh.." Angel said, making a face. "Yeah.. I guess."

* * *

Dana was asleep again when the phone rang. The noise jerked her awake and she sat up sharply, tension coursing through her body. At least she didn't launch into a stream of yelling.

Spike briefly put a hand on her shoulder as he made his way over to the phone, reassuring her that nothing was wrong. He picked up the phone, pushing it next to his ear and saying his introduction while he stared across the room at Dana.

"_Spike, it's Angel."_

"Oh hey," Spike said, settling himself onto the couch. "How's the forehead?"

"_Shut up Spike-"_ Angel started, launching into the story about Cordelia's abduction and then the news that she was in hospital.

Dana watched Spike absorb this news, his face growing more serious the longer the phone conversation went on.

"So you need me to come down there?" Spike asked, shooting a worried look at Dana. Could he leave her here again? He couldn't really stay in his apartment for the rest of his life.. and neither could she. But he couldn't take her with him. _Oh_ _bloody hell.._

"_We think that whoever took her might try and come back for her. Also I want to be able to track them down once we've talked to her,"_ Angel's voice went on.

"What so she's conscious?" Spike probed.

There was a pause and then, "_I don't know yet. The police didn't tell me much._"

"Right. I'll be there as soon as I can," he told Angel finally, suppressing a frustrated series of sounds, and hanging up.

He looked at Dana. "I have to go out again," he explained, trying to express in his voice how bad he felt about leaving her. Her brown eyes swallowed him for a few moments, then she nodded slightly.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, OK? Don't leave here, and don't open the door to anyone alright?" he said, moving over to her.

"Trapped again," she stated, but it sounded almost like a question.

"No, no – I'm sorry, it's just for a little while. There's just someone I need to help right now," Spike said hurriedly, taking hold of her hand as he sat down on the bed. "I'll be back soon. You're not a prisoner, it's just safer for you to stay here until I come back."

Dana nodded again, looking away. "You have so many people to save," she whispered. "It matters."

Spike stood up off the bed and moved to the door, taking a couple of stakes with him as he went. He looked back at her as he left, but she was still facing away from him.

_She better be here when I get back_, he thought as he let himself out.

* * *

Dana looked back over her shoulder as the door shut.

"Don't leave me .." she mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear her anymore. She shifted on the bed, pulling the blankets up around herself again and wincing as her stomach stretched as she moved. The injury was healing fast but it still caused her a lot of pain.

She fixed her eyes on the door, one hand clutching her matted black hair and the other still holding onto one of Spike's sheets. The room had been purged of sound and she felt terribly alone.

After a few moments her lips pursed together and her hand fell from her hair onto the bedspread.

"They're coming.." she whispered into the silence.

**

* * *

**

**END CHAPTER**

**

* * *

**

**One ref:** Umm.. oh right.

"**Willow is a tree**" Band candy! Yes, we all love that episode.. Buffy: Season Three. It's one of the teachers from the Sunnydale High school who's gone and got smashed at The Bronze. She looks at Willow and goes "Willow.. Willow is a tree! Hey there little tree.." or something weirdo like that. Anyways.. I always thought that was funny.

**

* * *

**

**AUTHOR NOTES**

**

* * *

**

**Explanation as to why I haven't posted a chapter in over half a year:**

I've been sick, as in really quite sick. I've also been working on an original fiction, and I've also had a lack of inspiration to write this baby. I think I've got it back now!

I've had most of this chapter done for like.. four months and just.. haven't found the time to finish the rest of it. There's a lot more I wanted to put into this chap, but decided it could wait until next chap, so things I mentioned in author's notes _last_ chap (oh boy this is getting confusing) obviously haven't happened yet.

I scrapped a lot of those ideas too, as the story took some different turns.

I've already written the opening scene to the next chapter, which should hopefully get me on the path to writing the rest of the chapter fairly quickly.

**No Connor + No Immortal:** I'm sorry, they'll be there next chapter. At least I sincerely hope they will, as well as some other people you haven't seen for a while.

I'm not trying to overload you guys with characters, it's just I suppose my plots are quite complex and need a lot of things to happen before we get to the really involving "OMG I can't believe THAT happened" bits.

Also **Illyria's part** got cut short here to make room for all the Spike/Dana and Cordy/kidnapped bits. I'm sorry, she'll be back with hopefully more answers than questions next chapter.

**Lack of love**: I'm horrible and I don't like sap. I also find it difficult making an OTP.. although it's probably Buffy/Angel although.. hmm.. in my fic there's not a lot of room for that to develop. I'm sure there are lots of B/A happily ever after fics you can read if you want summa that, or Spuffy or Angel/Cordy or whatever. This isn't a romance fic, but I'm not going to ignore the fact that Buffyverse characters have more baggage and tragedy than Opera singers carrying suitcases.

**Mixed Drinks**: This is bad, and I'm sorry. Hopefully I'm getting back into a rhythm again.

How about some wine, m'dear?

**

* * *

**

**Next Chapter:** I will just contradict myself, so the only thing I'll tell you for certain is that there's a hospital scene. Whee, whadda teaser. Mwahahaha.

* * *

**Read/Review: **Pleeeeasssee do :) I need feedback, and 3 all those who give it to me. It helps so much! Please review!

* * *


End file.
